


The Mixtape of Us

by roso7



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Blaine Anderson & Sam Evans Friendship, Blam, Caretaking, Cheerio Blaine Anderson, Cute, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Endgame Blaine Anderson/Sam Evans, Episode: s04e18 Shooting Star, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pansexual Character, Pansexual Sam Evans, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Romantic Friendship, Sam Evans - Freeform, Sick Blaine Anderson, Sick Character, Sickfic, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Songfic, blaine anderson - Freeform, cheerio!Blaine
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:00:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 37,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25833175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roso7/pseuds/roso7
Summary: Sam Evans and Blaine Anderson were lucky enough to find each other in a world where it's easy to feel alone. Listen along to the songs that outline their journey through friendship, hardship, and an eventual relationship. The Mixtape of Us is a slow burn 'friends to lovers' Blam fic that indulges in angst, fluff, romance and hurt/comfort about my favorite nerds who fall in love. Playlist available on Spotify >> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6pApLkbX7J2qWzH5KWxnHC?si=Ams9OHa1SKau_d73D281vA
Relationships: Blaine Anderson/Sam Evans
Comments: 39
Kudos: 58





	1. The Boxer

**Author's Note:**

> Song: The Boxer (Emmylou Harris Version)
> 
> Takes place during 3x8 “Hold on to Sixteen”

" **I am just a poor boy though my story's seldom told**

**I have squandered my existence**

**On a pocket full of mumbles such are promises**

**All lies in jest 'til a man hears what he wants to hear,**

**And disregards the rest"**

"Shit"

Sam banged his fist against the cherry-red metal of his locker door and let out a disgruntled huff. He had unfortunately misplaced the scrap of notebook paper which held the numbers of his locker combination, and just couldn't seem to guess it right. Still adjusting to the move back to McKinley, Sam's thoughts seemed a bit all over the place - no wonder he was having trouble keeping track of things.

Spinning the dial one last time, the blonde audibly begged the locker to just swing open, but his pleads were useless and the door remained shut.

"Fuck it."

He adjusted his backpack on his shoulder and gave two tasteful middle fingers to his sealed locker. The hallways were empty, as school had let out about thirty minutes ago. Sam had stayed behind to speak with Ms. Pillsbury about assimilating back to McKinley and adjusting some of his classes to try and slip back into his old schedule. He was promised an easy transition, but for Sam, things were already going wrong on day one. His schedule was messed up, he got in a fight his first day back in glee, and Mercedes was prancing around with her new boyfriend on her arm, and now he couldn't get his goddamn locker open.

_Some promise._

The late bus wasn't going to be coming to pick students up for about another twenty minutes, so Sam decided to take a walk around the school's hallways. Maybe it was to re-familiarize himself with the classroom layout, or maybe it was to wallow in solitary for a bit - you can be the judge.

" **Well, I left my home and my family**

**I was no more than a boy in the company of strangers**

**In the quiet of the railway station, running scared, laying low**

**Seeking out the poor quarters where the ragged people go**

**Looking for the places only they would know"**

Sam sauntered by the chemistry lab and peeked through the door. A table of flasks and cylinders were laid out to dry and Sam couldn't help but think of the science kit that he got his sister, Stacey, for her birthday this year. Sam had saw it in the window of a store at the mall and knew she would enjoy it more than a doll or clothes. She was inquisitive and loved to know how things work. She was always reading about animals and rocket ships and Sam had no doubt that she would be a genius someday - something that he had long realized was not in the cards for himself. He had saved up tips from his job at the club to get the kit for her, and as he expected, her eyes lit up when she peeled back the paper. Moments later, Stacey was standing on the kitchen chair, leaning over the counter, begging to begin doing experiments. Soon they were both mixing odd smelling liquids together and hearing the crackling and foaming of the chemical reactions. Sam can recall the sounds of his sisters excited squeals and laughter far more clearly, though.

Tears pricked at Sam's eyes as he walked away from the lab. His family meant the world to him and he felt as though without them here, he was surrounded by strangers. No one would understand him the way that they did. No one would _need_ him the way that they did.

" **Only seeking workman's wages**

**I come looking for a job, but I get no offers**

**Just a come-on from the whores on Seventh Avenue**

**I do declare there were times when I was so lonesome**

**I took some comfort there"**

Sam continued his way down the hall. He half-heartedly smiled at the janitor, who was mopping a suspicious-looking liquid from the linoleum floor.

Sam toyed with the idea of getting a job back here in Ohio. He enjoyed having his own money while he was working at the strip club, and I mean, he could wait tables at Breadstix, or maybe snag a few babysitting gigs - _it wouldn't be that hard, right?_ All Sam knew is that having some of his own money might relieve him of some of the guilt that was currently weighing down heavily on his shoulders. Carole and Burt had so graciously let his crash at their house for the time being, and while it is so selfless, it was really kind of driving Sam crazy how nonchalant they were about the arrangement.

Coming from almost nothing made Sam hyper-aware of the cost of living. Sam saw dollar signs every time he turned on a light at the Hummel-Hudsons and made sure not to leave them on when he left the house. He cringed when Finn would only throw half a load of laundry in the wash, rather that waiting for a full one. He refrained from using too much hot water or keeping his charger plugged in the wall too long. All of these things engrained in his head from years of living on a strict budget.

He gnawed at the corner of his fingernail. Maybe his anxiety would be quelled if he could just afford groceries on his own.

_They had a strip club in Lima, right?_

" **In a-laying out my winter clothes**

**And wishing I was home, going home**

**Where the New York City winters aren't a-bleeding me**

**Bleeding me, going home"**

Turning on his heel, Sam decided to make his way toward the gym locker rooms. He thought a splash of water on his face and a mirror pep-talk might turn his mood around a bit.

Sam noticed a naked, faux Christmas tree in the corner of the hall. A cardboard box sat next to it. It was still taped up, but Sam assumed it was lights and decorations. Christmas was still weeks away, but the school was just preparing the decorations that they put up every year to engage in the holiday spirit. It was supposed to be a symbol of warmth and peace, but that tree had only succeeded in sending Sam into a spiral of concerns about his family. He hadn't thought about it, actually - would he be going home? He couldn't do that to his brother and sister.

_Abandon them on Christmas? No._

Maybe this whole thing was a mistake. Maybe Sam should just go home now, or at least right after sectionals.

_Why did I think this was a good idea?_

" **In the clearing stands a boxer and a fighter by his trade**

**And he carries the reminders**

**Of every bloke that laid him down or cleft him**

**'Til he cried out in his anger and his shame**

**I am leaving, I am leaving but the fighter still remains"**

Finally reaching the locker room, Sam's heart was threatening to beat out of his chest. His anxiety and fear that he had made a terrible mistake pounded in his ears, He stumbled over to one of the sinks and turned the tap.

_Thud-thud. Thud. Thud-thud._

Splashing palmfuls of water on to his face, Sam hoped the pounding would quit, but it just seemed to get faster.

_Thud. Thud. Thud._

He scrubbed at his eyes frantically, his long fringe dripping with the icy tap water. He needed to breathe. He needed to make his heart stop racing like this.

_Thud-thud. Thud-thud._

Sam looked up at the mirror and shakily turned off the water. His red-rimmed eyes blinked into focus as he tried to slow his breath into a calm and even rhythm. He grabbed two paper towels from the dispenser and patted his face, he felt his cheeks hot with exasperation.

_Silence._

Sam let out a pinched sigh of relief as he leaned his forehead against the cool tile wall, closing his eyes again.

_Thud-thud._

Sam turned around so quickly you'd be surprised that he didn't snap his own thudding was real, and it wan't coming from Sam's own heartbeat, it was coming from another room. He slowly crept forward to the other side of the locker room, where the actual weight room entrance was. The thuds were getting louder - pounding furiously like percussion. Sam peered through the doorway and could barely make out the machinery in the room, as the usual lights were turned off. A dim emergency floodlight was the only thing illuminating the fitness equipment, and Sam was puzzled by what that persistent rhythmic sound could be.

Thats when a bit of movement caught his eye. The heavyweight punching bag, chained to the ceiling in the corner of the room, was rocking side to side with each thud - a frustrated grunt paralleling each one. Sam stayed secure behind some sort of cable machine as he watched for the mysterious boxer to appear from behind the bag. Sam guessed this guy was quite small as he was nearly completely hidden, but it looked like he packed a strong punch - literally.

The punching stopped again and silence fell upon the room. Sam held his breath. He heard a sniffle come from behind the punching bag as the boxer leaned down to grab his bag from the floor. It wasn't a normal gym bag - it was a leather messenger bag that Sam could have sworn he had seen before.

Still peeking from behind the cable machine, Sam could now make out the silhouette of the boy. He was wearing rather short shorts and a hoodie. He looked to be rather small, like Sam had predicted, but still had some build. Finally Sam noticed his shiny dark hair, coiling into tight curls around his hairline.

_Who do I know has hair like that?_

A perplexed "Hmm" slipped out of Sam's throat before he could stop it.

"Hey, whose there?"

Sam dove out from behind the cable machine, but he was half blind in the dim lighting of the room and whacked his knee on the weight rack next to him

"Ah, fuck you!" Sam cursed in response to the pain.

"Hey, sorry, I don't want any trouble, please. I'll just grab my things and go-"

The words were stern, careful to not to reveal the terror bubbling inside. This person has had to say something like this before.

"No, shit, ow - I'm sorry. I'm really sorry, don't be scared, dude"

Sam backed up out of the weight room into the light and waited for his counterpart to do the same. He saw that the other boy was about to cross the threshold when he suddenly stopped.

"Sam?"

Sam's face softened completely.

"Sam, oh, I didn't think I was going to see you here, oh god-"

The anonymous voice began to stammer.

"I don't really know what… Sam, I… I've heard you are a really nice guy but I don't blame-"

The silhouette stepped closer, finally revealing himself.

_Blaine?_

"I don't blame you if you want to take another swing at me."

Sam looked at Blaine. He noticed the sweat still on his forehead and the pain etched around his eyes. He saw the tracks left behind from tears that Blaine must have thought he wiped away. Sam knew this feeling - heoften got his frustration out by angrily lifting weights, or y'know, throwing one or two against the wall.

He didn't blame Blaine for getting frustrated in glee club. Sam had just walked in there knowing that the club _needed_ him - and truthfully, he really _did_ expect everyone to go with his suggestions with no pushback. He had forgotten the most important part about glee. Glee was made up of losers and freaks and people with sadness and fear and anger, and the most important thing is that you need to recognize those parts and embrace them. Glee was a collaboration - you can't go pushing people away.

He didn't want to fight Blaine. Instead he put his hand out to him in an attempt at a truce.

"Are you sure? I said some really terrible things, Sam, and although I truly apologize, honestly, I am still disgusted with myself. I have been going through some stuff y'know, and I took it out on you - but that is not an excuse, I know that… So, the offer still stands if you wanna get back at me."

Blaine swallowed thickly and began to recoil.

"Don't sweat it, bro. Really. I get it."

Sam pushed his outstretched hand closer to Blaine. The shorter boy took it and gave a firm handshake with a soft smile.

"Thank you."

"Hey", Sam made eye-contact with Blaine, "I actually think we have more in common than you might think. I saw the X-Men sticker on your sheet music folder today in glee - so… thats a start".

"Oh yeah?" Blaine's smile grew wider.

"Yeah. Are you taking the late bus? It's coming in a few minutes if you want to walk with me?"

Blaine walked with Sam out of the locker room and into the hallway - a new sense of comfort and unity surrounding the two, but Sam knew that the fighter was still there, somewhere inside the other boy.

And he liked it.


	2. Young Presidents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things to note: We are jumping ahead with the next story. In my head from "The Boxer" until now, Sam and Blaine have been casual friends like they were on the show. This story picks up at the end of "Makeover" where canonically Sam and Blaine become closer friends through the election, and I really enjoy that storyline - just changed it up a little. Just like the show, Klaine is getting rocky and Sam and Brittany are talking and Sam is into her - side note, I adore Brittany and I wish her the best, but this story ignores her - but, its fine because she ends up with the right person in the end right?.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: Young Presidents - Someone Still Loves You Boris Yeltsin
> 
> Takes place during 4x03 “Makeover”

" **Say do you really wanna be the way we used to go**

**Or do you really really really wanna be the one who told you so?"**

"There's the man of the hour!"

Blaine dropped the cell phone from his ear as he felt a hand grip his shoulder. He tried to force a smile, but it refused to reveal itself.

"You alright?"

Blaine looked up to see a bright eyed blonde saunter in front of him. _Sam_. His heart wanted to share in the joy that he could tell the other boy was feeling but a growing pit in his stomach wouldn't let him. Blaine quickly contemplated putting on a brave face. He could take the seat at the booth where Sam had planted himself and join in on the celebration. He could force the smile even harder, and pretend like this crowded restaurant wasn't burning him up like he was in Hell.

Blaine blinked and decided to nix that idea. In that moment he knew that he needed to stop with the acting. Tonight, he wasn't alright - he just hoped that Sam wouldn't regret asking him that question.

"You know, it didn't hit me until right now - I came to McKinley for Kurt… thats it. And, now he's gone, and even with glee club it just - I feel really really… alone."

"You're kinda killing my party buzz, bro", Sam's expression dropped as he fiddled with the straw to his suspiciously blue drink.

_There it is, there is the regret. Too late now though, floodgates are open._

"I'm sorry, it's just that I did all this for him. I did _all_ of this for him. And now, he's not here. And so it just kind of feels like none of it matters."

Sam, who had not broken eye contact for the whole conversation, actually did _not_ regret asking Blaine if he was alright. Blaine may not have realized it, but Sam was incredibly grateful for this week. He always knew that there was something in Blaine that he admired. Actually, maybe it was a lot of things, but it did't change the fact that Sam was elated that they were spending all of this time together. It was always nice with the shorter boy - Blaine's energy was different than the guys on the football team or Brittany. He couldn't quite explain it, but he knew he craved it. The late nights creating campaign posters, Blaine teaching Sam tricks to remember his speech, getting dressed up for the debate meant there was no going back now. Blaine was Sam's friend, and if there's one thing to know about Sam Evans - it's that he is always there for his friends.

" **If this could've been like the other times**

**Or another way, too**

**We creep in place but I'm trying not to bend my arms, my love**

**Stop. Go"**

"Of course it matters! Your McKinley's first 'Gay Guy President'", Sam offered.

"Nobody cares about that."

"Look, before you, Kurt was the first gay kid I met, and don't get me wrong, he's great - I just don't really get his Bravo jokes, or the fashion thing, or Broadway. You and me, it's different, y'know? Never had a gay bro before - we'd be like Wolverine and Cyclops, y'know. Show people how cool we are with each other."

Blaine blinked back tears as he anxiously began to tear apart a straw wrapper on the table. Sam was proving to really be something else. Something that Blaine really needed right now.

"And y'know, if you ask me, that's what matters."

Blaine let out a chuckle, releasing some of his negativity with it.

"Thanks, man. You're right-", Blaine began to stand "But just so we're clear…"

" _I'm Wolverine" "I'm Wolverine"_

The statement, said through mischievous smiles, echoed between them.

Blaine's smile didn't fall from his face as he turned to walk away. Sam's hand hit his shoulder again.

"Stop - hey, I almost forgot I have a surprise for you - like I said, my party buzz got derailed! I want to go talk to Brittany really quick, and then meet me in the parking lot? In ten minutes?"

Blaine looked up at him with confusion in his eyes, paired with a little bit of guilt for threatening this apparently coveted 'party buzz'.

"Uh, yeah sure - ten min-"

"Ten minutes- Go!"

Blaine watched Sam's blonde hair bounce as he bounded away to the other side of the restaurant, nearly knocking over several waiters in the process.

" **Talkin with your tired eyes again**

**Movin with your peace keepin lips**

**We were two young presidents**

**On a Seven Fourty-Seven flight**

**Discussions with the Russians last all night**

**We were two young presidents"**

Trying not to let his cell phone burn a hole in his pocket, Blaine, headed outside to get some fresh air before Sam's 'surprise'. He fastened the button on his wool blazer, not realizing how chilly the fall air had become. Blaine found himself looking up at the stars. The pin pricks of light kind of made him feel smaller than he already felt at the moment. They actually made him feel as unimportant as Kurt had all week.

"Am I late?!"

A boisterous voice shot out from the restaurant door behind Blaine, but he was undisturbed. Not breaking his gaze from the ink colored sky, Blaine responded

"No. I'm early."

Blaine felt Sam's presence as he stepped up next to him. Sam tilted his head up and joined in the melancholy stargaze.

"Do I have to give you another uplifting speech to tear you away from dramatically looking at the stars, or…?"

Blaine chucked and rolled his eyes. Sam looked at him and gave a close-lipped smile.

"Okay, so here is the surprise - we ditch this party."

"I actually would love that… I'm so tired."

"Well, I'm not taking you home - this is a two part surprise. Do you trust me?"

Blaine didn't have to think at all - one of his favorite things.

"I do."

Sam grabbed his arm and led him to his truck. He jogged over to the passenger's side door and opened it.

"Mr. President", Sam muttered as he ushered Blaine into the car. Blaine let out a laugh.

The stars made him feel small, but Sam made him feel like he was the whole world.

" **Say we could play it cinnamon girl, we could play it slow**

**But all I really really really really really really want is to let her go**

**Tell me where you've been, boy**

**Now tell me where you've been"**

Blaine could tell that they were heading toward the Hummel-Hudson residence. He had made the journey from there to Breadstix many time's before. Trying to focus on the radio or the streaks of light passing by the window, Blaine was grasping at ways not to let Kurt back into his head. He was having such a nice time with Sam, and he didn't want to ruin it. A vibration near his arm made him jump - _Kurt, was he calling back?_

Blaine couldn't decide if he was disappointed or relieved when he realized that it was Sam's phone that was vibrating as it was perched on the center console of the truck.

"Hey, can you see who that is for me?" Sam prompted, not taking his eyes off the road.

Blaine looked at the screen, squinting at the harsh light.

"It's Britt."

"Oh shit, I forgot to tell her I was leaving. Dammit, that was one of the reasons that I went to talk to her and I totally forgot. Can you text her for me and just say, uh, that I left early and we'll talk tomorrow? And uh, spell something wrong, so she thinks that it's me." Sam chuckled.

Blaine typed in the message as Sam spoke, ignoring his request to misspell something, and placed the phone back between them.

"Thanks bro, and perfect timing, it looks like we're here."

Sam pulled into the parking lot of the little league baseball field, located about a block away from the Hummel-Hudsons. Reaching into the backseat, Sam's face came dangerously close to Blaine's.

"Sorry, just got to get the uh… 'surprise bag'."

"Surprise bag?" Blaine raised an eyebrow.

Sam nodded and pulled a large canvas duffel bag and a worn blanket that smelled like a campfire onto his lap. A huge smile spread onto his face, visible even in the dim moonlight.

"Let's go."

" **If this could've been like the other times**

**Or another way, too**

**We creep in place but I'm trying not to bend my arms, my love**

**Stop. Go**

**Stop. Go"**

Sam led Blaine on to the baseball diamond, one of the lights were on, illuminating the field. He shook out the blanket and draped it over the pitchers mound, motioning for Blaine to sit with him.

"So the Breadstix inauguration was fun, and it was really nice of Tina and Sugar to plan the whole thing - but thats kind of the problem, y'know? I feel like that part was for everyone else, and you deserve something just for you - and as your VP… I put some stuff in a bag and I'm hoping for the best."

"Sam, that is so _stupidly_ nice of you - you really didn't… honestly if anything I have been _under_ appreciating you this week and-"

"Shh. Blaine, don't over think this. Let me."

Blaine sat silent.

"First things first is that I learned this week that you hate cake from the grocery store. I remember that from when we were talking about past birthday parties, and I got really jealous that you actually had a pony at your sixth birthday - never mind - anyway I knew you weren't going to eat the cake that they bought for the party, so I got these."

Sam pulled out two boxes and inside were two of the sickeningly sweet cinnamon buns that you get from the mall.

"They should be still warm, I didn't pick them up that long ago. I remembered you liked them because when we went to the mall last week - when you bought me those nice shoes that you said every guy should have when they start going on job interviews and stuff - you made me stop so we could get cinnamon rolls specifically from that kiosk."

"Oh my god, this is perfect, thank you", Blaine said through a childlike smile, grabbing one of the boxes and a plastic fork.

"Next, are these."

Sam pulled out a box of Fourth of July sparklers and a lighter.

"I have a strong belief that you need fireworks for any kind of celebration, but I remembered that you said you were kind of scared of fireworks -"

"Do you know how many firework related burns and other injuries happen every Fourth of July?!"

"I know! I know! I believe you, thats why I got these - no explosives."

"Thank you, Sam, they're perfect-"

"Eh, wait- one more thing. This is the best part - the reason we are so close to Finn's place, because he has to drive us home later."

Sam pulled out a bottle of champagne from the bag.

"Wait, is that- how did you…?"

"It took a bit on convincing for Burt to buy it for me, but I have been babysitting some kids in town, and I paid for it, so he agreed. I told him it was a special occasion! And on the off chance that we didn't win, we could have had a losers toast I guess."

"You wouldn't give it to Brittany?"

"Um, I actually didn't even think about that-"

"Never mind" Blaine shifted on to his knees, locking eyes with Sam, "This is so incredible. I really am overwhelmed with how wonderful this is."

"You deserve it - we deserve it! Let's feast!"

"I'm so ready, but um… could you open the champagne bottle? It kind of seems…" Blaine mimed an explosion with his hands.

"Like and explosive? Oh my- you're right" Sam began to open the seal.

They both were thrown into hysterics as Sam recklessly shook the bottle and popped the cork, letting the wine rain down on them.

" **I was talkin with my tired eyes again**

**Fallin with your peace keepin lips**

**We were two young presidents**

**On a Seven Fourty-Seven flight**

**Discussions with the Russians last all night**

**We were two young presidents"**

The rest of the night was spent licking frosting of their fingers and passing the green glass bottle of champagne back and forth. They made their way through the box of sparklers, Sam poking fun at Blaine's stick-straight arms as he cautiously held the flames away from his face. They proceeded to get drunk and prance around the field. They laughed until their stomachs hurt (although the sugar and the alcohol may have also played a role in that).

The two boys ended up in the outfield. They had abandoned their blanket and settled next to each other, laid out on the grass. Cool dew seeped into their clothes and hair, but they didn't mind - the alcohol was keeping them warm. They looked at the stars again, but this time, Blaine didn't find himself small. He didn't find himself unimportant. He found himself _heard_. He found himself _celebrated._

And you know what? It did matter. _He_ mattered. He _was_ McKinley's first fucking 'Gay Guy President', and that was fucking _important._

A plane came into view. Its lights blinking red and white as it made its way across the dark stretch of sky.

"Where do you think that plane is headed?" Blaine mused, his voice hoarse. He was met with silence.

Blaine lolled his head over to the side to face the boy next to him. Sam's eyes were closed, his lashes gently fluttering. His were lips parted slightly, his breathing slow.

Smiling, Blaine turned to the sky again.

He wasn't alone anymore.


	3. Blondie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things to note: This takes place during “Swan Song”. Blaine is trying to cheer Sam up after the Sectionals loss and the possibility of Glee being over for them for the rest of their senior year. During this, he begins to notice his blossoming crush on Sam becoming harder to hide. Kurt and Blaine are broken up now and Sam is helping him cope. Blaine didn’t cheat on Kurt, he felt better after the night with Sam after the election and didn’t spiral out of control. They decided to break up civilly because long distance not working out for them. They both weren’t getting what they needed and I can’t handle the angst of the cheating (not in this story at least). Also, Sam doesn’t continue things with Brittany because she is too hung up on Santana. Okay, Begin!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: Blondie - Current Joys
> 
> Takes Place during 4x9 “Swan Song”

**“There are flowers**

**In my heart**

**They’re growing thorns**

**And it hurts”**

“…Let’s just enjoy this week and look forward to our big comeback next year.”

“What about those of us who won’t have a next year?”

Blaine looked over at Sam with arms crossed, sharing in the frustration of the situation at hand. The New Directions had lost sectionals. Glee was over for the year and they were all big losers, once again. 

He then looked back at Finn who stood flabbergasted in front of the classroom. It seemed that both he and Mr. Shue didn’t have that notion cross their minds. Before they could cough up some faux-inspirational response, the school bell rang. Blaine reached below him and grabbed the strap of his bag, standing up to go and talk to Sam. He knew that they both could benefit from some commiserating at the moment. Looking to the right, Blaine saw that Sam wasn’t lingering by his seat, waiting for Blaine like usual. The other boy had made a beeline for the door and all Blaine saw was a flash of blonde hair before Sam had completely disappeared into the hallway. 

Blaine trotted over to the door and looked both ways down the hallway, which was now congested with students. He wondered what the best plan of action was. He decided to go left toward the gym - where Sam would most likely go when he needed some time alone. Note that when he needed this ‘time alone’, Blaine was usually welcome. Ever since the election, the two were basically joined at the hip. After breaking up with Kurt only a few days later, Blaine threatened to spiral into an isolated depression, but Sam decided it would be better to be depressed with a friend. 

They hung out, talked about life and their upbringings. Sam was the classic “poor but wholesome” and Blaine the “well-off and distant”. They found interest in their differences and comfort in their similarities. 

Sam usually came over to Blaine’s house as it was normally empty, and Sam sure didn’t mind watching movies on the Anderson’s indulgently large TV. They tried baking together and did homework together at the dining room table. They slid across the hardwood floors in their socks while blaring Destiny’s Child and The Red Hot Chili Peppers. Blaine helped Sam run lines for Grease and taught him how to gel his hair back. Blaine tried to teach Sam piano, and Sam tried to teach Blaine guitar. 

They sang. They laughed. And they cried. 

Blaine tried to forget about his broken heart and Sam, his homesickness. But there was still pain deep in each of their chests. Although Blaine would have like to tell you that he _only_ attributed his pain to his recent breakup, that wasn’t actually the truth. Some of the ache was because of _Sam_. As much as he tried to force it down inside of him, or purge the idea all together, Blaine knew that he was falling for the kid. It was wrong for so many reasons - the biggest being that Sam wasn’t queer. And even if he was, he couldn’t make Sam his rebound - that would look desperate. He didn’t even know when he was going to be ready for another relationship. 

Sam was the most wonderful friend he had made in a long time - this was most crucial reason he couldn’t go messing it up. 

But as wonderful as it was, it sure did hurt sometimes.

**“Every time**

**You’re around**

**We break up**

**We get down”**

Hearing the clang of metal coming from inside the weight room, Blaine was confident he had successfully located his friend. As he closed in on the doorway the school bell rang again signaling the beginning of the next period. Blaine had Spanish and he could explain the situation to Mr. Shue later. He was sure he’d understand after seeing how gloomy Sam had been looking today. 

Meekly poking his head in the room, Blaine watched the taller boy lift a barbell up over his head. 

“Need a spotter?”, Blaine mused. 

Dropping the bar back down to his chest and then down to the floor, Sam let out a strangled chuckle. 

“I don’t know what I need.”

Blaine could tell that Sam was crying by the tremble in his voice.

“Well, maybe this would be a good place to start-”

Blaine opened up the front pocket of his bag and pulled out a pack of tissues. He plucked one out and handed it to Sam who began haphazardly wiping the tears from his eyes and cheeks. Blaine sat on the bench and waited for Sam to open up, usually with him it didn’t take too long. 

“Look, I know I’m not like the ‘captain of glee club’ or whatever, but for some reason I feel responsible for us, y’know? I feel like I should have been looking out for us. I should have looked out for Marley. I should have saw the signs that she was struggling, I know those signs, Blaine. We would have won if I just paid more attention.”

Blaine noted to bring up why he ‘knew those signs’, later. For now, he needed to focus. Sam looked up at him with glassy green eyes that told him he was ready for Blaine’s opinion. 

“I know that you know this - but you can’t put this responsibility all on yourself. We were _all_ selfish, _none_ of us were paying attention. Fuck it, blame Kitty, she was the one playing those mind games with Marley. Or Jake - he said he knew that she wasn’t eating and didn’t come to us for help. Just because you’re used to being the captain, and used to being the big brother - that doesn’t mean that when something goes wrong it’s all on you.”

“Like you said - I know all that. I just wish it was easier to believe it.” Sam wiped away another tear. 

“I know. It’s also really frustrating that we won’t have another competition this year - that part doesn’t help.”

“Hell no, it doesn’t.”

Sam looked up at Blaine, offering a watery smile. 

“Sorry for the breakdown, I feel like we are both so screwed up lately, we always wind up like this. Not that you-”

“Oh no, I’m screwed up. You’re right about that. But I’m happy we have each other to lean on, if you’ll still have me.”

“Of course, dude. You’re stuck with me - hey you should join the swim team now that glee is over. We can still be teammates, then.”

“This hair… in the water? No, thank you.”

“C’mon, what else are you gonna do, join the Cheerios?”

Blaine opened his mouth to protest, but quickly closed it and tilted hi head on contemplation. 

“Blaine, I was kidding-”

**“And I won’t**

**See you again**

**You’re not a person**

**You’re my friend”**

The pair made their way back into the school hallway. They had no intention of going to class now, so they silently strolled into the auditorium, which sat empty that Wednesday morning. Blaine watched as Sam swiftly jumped from the floor onto the stage and turned around to face the theater seats.

“I am happy to be here to announce the winner of ‘Best Friend in a Motion Picture’…”, Sam had begun opening a pretend envelope. He had dropped his voice down to a velvety ‘announcer voice’ impression and was looking out into an imaginary camera, “Starring in “Getting a Blonde Sad-sack to Stop Crying While Lifting Weights”, the winner is Blaine Anderson! Congratulations! Get up here!” 

Blaine’s face split into a giant smile. He had a lot of favorite parts about Sam, but his unleashed goofiness was definitely up there. Mostly, because he always used it to lift other people’s spirits. Blaine had deduced that it was another thing he acquired from years of entertaining two younger siblings. 

Feigning surprise, Blaine clutched his chest and made his way up the stairs toward Sam. Reaching out to collect his invisible trophy, he was taken off guard when Sam instead, pulled him into a tight embrace. They lingered there for a while as they each closed their eyes and related this physical support with the emotional support they had been giving each other. Blaine tried not to think of it as anything more than that, but it proved difficult. 

_He just said it, idiot - best_ **_friend._ ** _Get it through your head._

They pulled apart and Blaine turned toward the imaginary camera now and began to speak. 

“I’d like to thank the Academy…”, he heard Sam chuckle behind him, “I couldn’t do it without the blonde sad-sack himself, Sam Evans, and I can’t wait to work with him again. Thank you to the director and my agent, and if my kids are watching - go to sleep! It’s past your bedtime!”

Sam began to applaud, the sound echoing in the empty room. Blaine turned toward him.

“Well at least I won something this week, huh?”

**“If we do**

**Just by chance**

**Can we kiss**

**Can we dance”**

“Hey, I forgot to tell you, I’ve been practicing that song you taught me on the piano. Sometimes, when I don’t want to go to History class I’ll come here and practice. And uh, well I never want to go to History class, so I think I’m getting the hang of it.”

“Oh, yeah?”

Sam excitedly jogged over to the piano that sat stage left. A loud squeaking rang out as he pulled the bench from underneath it. Sitting down, he took a breath to focus, and gently laid down his fingers where they needed to be positioned. He began to play. 

Blaine grinned and sauntered over to lean on the piano and listen. He noticed Sam’s concentrated brow and his teeth biting down on his bottom lip. The melody flowed out of the piano - the tempo wasn’t quite right but he was hitting all the right notes. 

_Maybe all things had their own pace._

Closing his eyes, Blaine began to shift his weight from one foot to the other. The song was a classic waltz tune that Blaine had been taught in one of his early piano lessons and it was his favorite one to teach others. It reminded him of the good times in his childhood where he got to escape into music. Maybe his piano instructor wasn’t his favorite person and the lessons could get a bit boring, but when Blaine was able to make music - he was able to make magic. Songs like this one are the songs that changed his life. He imagined maybe dancing to it at his wedding someday. Slowly swaying across the floor, exchanging awkward giggles and glances. Ending it with a kiss. 

The last notes played and Blaine opened his eyes, interrupting his daydream. 

“Sam, that was so beautiful.”

_God, Sam was so beautiful._


	4. I Only Have Eyes For You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things to note: This takes place during "Sadie Hawkins". I think it was a missed opportunity for Blaine not to have more angst with the idea of a Sadie Hawkins Dance due to his past - so I made it happen. I think Tina deserved a better storyline and the writers did her dirty, therefore she isn't really in this story or good friends with Blaine and Sam - apologies to Tina fans. Also, I'm just realizing my trend of Blaine angst with a comforting Sam, but don't worry it will swap eventually. Also some of the songs in this series are going to be from the actual show but I recommend listening to the artist versions that I mention, most of them are actually other covers. Okay, read on!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song - I Only Have Eyes For You - Tashaki Miyaki
> 
> Takes place during - 4x11 "Sadie Hawkins"

**"My love must be a kind of blind love;**

**I can't see anyone but you"**

" _It's official! Get ready the first annual McKinley High Sadie Hawkins Dance."_

Tina's triumphant statement from weeks ago rang in Blaine's ears.

_Why didn't I protest more? Why did I let this happen?_

He fumbled with his bowtie. You would think that after tying hundreds of them, Blaine would be able to do it with his eyes closed - and he probably could if his hands weren't trembling so much. After what felt like the millionth attempt, Blaine frustratedly balled his his hands into fists. He strongly considered just bailing on the event all together. He was convinced that he wasn't even going to have a good time, and judging by the amount of anxiety already bubbling in his stomach - he was probably right. Deciding to give it one more go, Blaine stretched his fingers out in front of him, closed his eyes, and took a centering breath. After locking eyes with himself in the mirror again, he took a hold of the fabric draped around his neck, and went to work.

Blaine insisted on not going to this dance with a date. Among other reasons, he didn't want to have the awkward conversation about going to a Sadie Hawkins Dance as a gay guy, so he disclaimed quickly and rather forcefully that he would be going alone. People didn't pry which was nice, but secretly he'd hoped that someone _would._ Just so someone else could really know why Blaine was being so weird about it.

Of course, by 'someone', he meant Sam. _Just Sam._

Blaine stared into the mirror, almost to the point of a trance. He had finally wrangled his bowtie into submission, albeit a little less crisp than he would like, but it was going to have to do. His suit jacket hung heavy on his shoulders, weighing him down into a despairing slouch. His shoes felt like they were filled with cement. His eyes began to water, possibly due to the panic attack currently on the horizon, or maybe because Blaine had momentarily forgotten how to blink.

Tilting and turning his head to the side, Blaine did something that he told himself specifically _not_ to do tonight. Using his index finger he traced along the edge of a scar that began behind his ear and snaked up and under his neatly gelled hair. If he was being honest, Blaine didn't know how long the scar was or where it even ended, luckily it was easily covered and he liked to keep it that way. Just like the memory of that night, he wanted it hidden. Why he had to play with fire, and go looking at the damn thing? Well, Blaine didn't really know, but he regretted it instantly.

Just as he had predicted, looking at the scar only thrust him into panic. Suddenly his watery eyes began to overflow. He moved his finger carefully along the line of thickened skin until it met his hairline. Blaine's heart raced and his mind followed quickly behind.

_Where does it go? Where does it end?_

Before he knew it, Blaine was raking his fingers through his hair on the back of his head, disrupting the carefully combed, gelled landscape. He bit down on his lip as he scratched at his scalp, trying to locate the remnants of his past injury. His tears continued to roll down his cheeks. They seemed to get hotter in temperature as time went on. Blaine recalled how similarly his his blood felt as it dripped down his face that forsaken night of the original Sadie Hawkins Dance. Grabbing a fistful of hair and dropping to his knees, Blaine couldn't stop himself from being transported back to the moment two snarling classmates towered over him and knocked his head into the ground. It had actually been a while since his last nightmare. He used to consistently have vivid dreams of rolling over on the asphalt of the school parking lot and watching his date get pummeled, before they came back for him. He remembered the second blow to his head and the one to his ribs, this time it was from the assailants foot. As the blood pooled into his ear from his head injury, the homophobic venom his classmates were spitting and the screams of the other boy were drowned out. Blaine didn't know if it was inappropriate to be thankful for that, but he was. He was more thankful, though, for the final kick to the face - which broke his nose, but blissfully blinded him to the rest of that evening.

**"Are the stars out tonight**

**I don't know if it's cloudy or bright**

**I only have eyes for you, dear"**

As cliche as it is was, Blaine could feel the walls closing in around him. Dropping from his knees to a sitting position he leaned up against the wall. He ripped his recently fastened bowtie from his neck in a frustrated attempt to steady his breathing. His room threatened to collapse in on him, and Blaine was honestly ready to surrender to it, when time stopped… and his bedroom door opened, just a crack.

"Blaine? Are you in there?"

_Sam?_

"Dude? Can I come in?"

Blaine was unable to respond. He just white-knuckled the bowtie in his hand and stared straight ahead. Sam took the silence as permission to enter. He was dreadfully unprepared for what he would discover on the floor of the room.

Upon seeing the disheveled boy huddled up underneath his mirror, Sam held back from letting his jaw drop toward the floor. Instead, he carefully stepped over to the wall next to the mirror, and leaned up against it. Sliding his back down the wall until he was sitting next to his quivering friend. He looked at Blaine, whose eyes were still hyper focused on something unspecific in front of him.

"I know you didn't want to come tonight so I thought we could maybe grab ice cream or something before hand or jam out to some music in the car to get your spirits up. But, you didn't answer your phone a few times so I decided to just come over. I saw your parents didn't look like they were home so I just came in through the garage - I still have the code you gave me. I hope thats okay."

Blaine continued to sit in silence. It was more than okay that Sam was there with him, but he couldn't quite choke up words yet. His breathing was starting to even out, but he was now being flooded with shame for Sam seeing him in this state. Blaine could feel the sweat on his neck and how sticky his face had become from his tears. He couldn't imagine what his hair looked like and, honestly he didn't want to.

"You don't have to tell me what's going on in there", Sam looked down at Blaine, "Not right now, y'know. We can just get cleaned up and go get a burger or something? My hair and jacket are all messed up anyway, its really coming down out there."

Something about that statement snapped Blaine out of his haze. He turned toward Sam and bore into his concerned eyes. After a moment he looked up and noticed his damp hair, parted and pushed to the side. Moving his gaze down he saw Sam's navy suit jacket glistening with droplets of water.

"Its raining?" Blaine said, just above a whisper.

"Yeah, dude, you don't hear it? Its crazy out there, you - your window's wide open!"

Sam jumped up and trotted to the window on the opposite side of the bedroom, forcing it shut. Blaine noticed how drenched the items on the desk below the window had become - he didn't care.

"Blaine? Can you tell me how I can help you? You're kind of scaring me, man."

"I'm sorry, I just - I don't think I can go tonight."

"That's fine, dude. What do you want to do instead? We can just hang out here if you want."

"No, Sam - you're all dressed up, and you voted in favor of the dance, so you should be able to enjoy it. Don't worry about me, really we can talk about it tomorrow."

Sam looked to the side, obviously in thought of what to do next. He then slid off his jacket and tossed it on the back of Blaine's desk chair and began unbuttoning his white dress shirt.

"What are you doing?"

Sam pulled his arms out of the dress shirt revealing a plain white undershirt. He proceeded to kick off his shoes and run his fingers through his hair, loosening from the product that was holding it too the side.

"There", Sam said, matter of factly "I'm not dressed up anymore. No where to go".

Blaine's lips surrendered into a smile. He followed suit and shrugged off his jacket. Removing his button-down and shoes he noticed a significant weight being lifted off of him. He was then able to stand and take a seat on his bed where Sam joined him.

**"Oh, the moon may be high**

**But I can't see a thing in the sky**

**I only have eyes for you, yes I do"**

"Are you kidding me?! Shit, I'm sorry, I'm not trying to blame you for anything, but why didn't you say anything? I would have vetoed the idea so fast, if I knew!"

Blaine had explained the gory details of his first Sadie Hawkins dance experience. He didn't cry, but Sam did.

"I know, I know - I just… Tina was so excited and it's just not the easiest thing to bring up at a moment's notice, I guess."

"Yeah, but-"

"And, I don't know, I'm such a different person now. I have been out for so long now, and I have a support system at McKinley. I've learned to defend myself. I went to dances with Kurt, and I was worried that those were going to be a disaster, but they turned out fine. All signs pointed to me being able to cope, y'know?"

Sam sat silent and gnawed at his nail.

"Sam? You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm sorry, I'm not trying to make this about me, but I can't stop thinking about taking a bat to those guys' heads. The ones that did that to you. Fuck them. What did they look like, so I can get a better mental image of my kicking in their skulls? God, I wish I was there to protect you that night."

Blaine chuckled.

"Look, I'm never going to end on forgiveness with them, but I never wanted to end it with retaliation either. Its just something that I live with now and that's that. And now, you just get to live with it, too. And for whatever it's worth, I'm glad you're here with me _now._ "

A pause.

"You're stronger than me, bro", Sam confessed.

Blaine chuckled again. Shaking his head. He wasn't one hundred percent sure what Sam had meant by that, but he knew he disagreed. In Sam's head though, he stuck by his statement. Blaine was able to be honest to himself and others and he hoped that one day he could be that brave.

**"I don't know, honey, if we're in a garden**

**And I don't know if we're on a crowded avenue"**

"I'm kinda digging this look though, dude"

"What look? Oh - oh my god, Sam, why didn't you say anything!"

Blaine began combing his fingers thorough his hair, realizing that he left it devastatingly unruly and half-gelled for this entire conversation. Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he made a dash for the bathroom. Sam followed behind him, and leaned himself against the doorframe. He watched the other boy bent over the sink, combing water into his locks to smooth them down onto his head, when suddenly he stopped. Laying the comb down for a moment, Blaine turned around.

"Come 'ere."

Sam obliged and stepped onto the tile floor, cold on his socked feet. Blaine reached out and took his wrist, lifting it up and placing his thumb on Sam's palm. He lead Sam's outstretched fingers behind his ear and allowed the other boy to feel his scar. Soon, the blonde had his whole hand in Blaine's half gelled curls, his brows pinched in concern and a bit of sorrow. Blaine took a hold of Sam's free hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze, a silent 'thank you' for being with him in this moment of vulnerability. Not even Kurt had been introduced to the scar, even though he knew the story behind it. Looking up as Sam, Blaine gave in to another smile.

"I'm okay", he stated firmly. He was telling the truth.

Sam gently lead Blaine into an embrace, pulling him in using his hand that still on the back of the boys head. Blaine melted into him, forgetting where he was for a moment. Forgetting where he had been. Not thinking about where he was going to go. Not thinking at all, which again, was his favorite thing.

A few moments later they separated. Blaine smirked and looked to the side. He was about to make a choice.

"Put your shoes back on. And your shirt and jacket, too."

Blaine turned to the mirror and picked up his comb again, pulling it through his damp hair.

"Okay, sure. Where are we going?"

"McKinley High's first annual Sadie Hawkins dance."

**"You are here and so am I**

**Maybe millions of people go by**

**But they all disappear from view**

**And I only have eyes for you"**

"Not trying to say that this is a bad idea, but are you sure about this?"

Sam looked at Blaine who sat next to him in the passengers seat. His hair was neatly gelled back into his usual style, and a crisply tied bowtie was fastened around his neck. Sam recalled the tears from earlier, wet and heavy like the rain that was still currently pouring down on his windshield. Those tears had been washed away and replaced with a look of determination.

"I'm ready, Sam."

"Okay, but-"

"Like I said, I have so many things that I didn't have before. I have a support system, I have confidence, I have a few years of boxing under my belt..."

"And you have _me_."

Blaine looked up at him.

"I'm sorry, I made it about me again-"

"No, I do. I do have you."

_You saved me tonight._

They shared a silent moment, noticing details and colors in each others eyes that they haven't seen before.

_You save me a lot of nights._

"Ready?"

Under opened umbrella's they stepped out the car and walked toward the entrance of the school. A minuscule pang of anxiety hit Blaine's stomach as they crossed the threshold. Sam placed his hand on the small of the shorter boy's back when he noticed the shift in energy. They made the short walk to the door of the auditorium. Blaine's anxiety quickly dissipated as a performance of 'No Scrubs' slowly increased in volume, and they walked inside. Blue party lights and incessant chatter filled the room. The two boys separated and looked at each other again.

"I'm gonna go find Tina. I've been so moody about this dance, I need to tell her how wonderful she did putting everything together."

"Cool, cool. I'm gonna… Get some punch or something."

"Thank you again, Sam."

_Dance with me, Sam._

"No problem, bro. Just text me if you need anything. I'll come find you."

They shared another glance and wandered in opposite directions. After performing a few numbers with the glee club and dancing with their friends, the music turned slow. Blaine couldn't help but find his gaze drifting, even with Tina latched to his shoulders, he found himself looking at a different member of the McKinley High political cabinet.

Suddenly, everyone else disappeared when Sam returned the look, staring at him from over Brittany's shoulder.

_I want you to save me every night._


	5. On the Floor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things to note: This takes place the day after the Sadie Hawkins Dance. Finally we get to see some of Sam's feelings for Blaine. This is a long one and really details Sam's side of the story. The long italicized parts are flashbacks. That's it! I would love to hear what you are thinking if you'd like to leave a review:)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: “On The Floor” by Perfume Genius
> 
> Takes Place during 4x11 “Sadie Hawkins”

**"I'm trying, but still, I close my eyes**

**The dreaming, bringing his face to mine**

**Lock the door**

**The constant buzzing all through the night**

**The fighting rips me all up inside"**

_Rustling fabric. A lazy groan. A bird chirping outside the window._

Those were the sounds that caused Sam’s tired eyes to flutter open that morning. Momentarily forgetting where he was, he was a bit startled by a mess of dark curls tickling at his nose. Sam quickly put the pieces together - flannel bedsheets, mild cologne, and the fact that he was wearing sweatpants that were too small for him reminded him that he had stayed the night at Blaine’s. It was the Saturday after the Sadie Hawkins Dance. 

Sam always woke up early. He spent years getting his younger siblings ready for school before he was able to run a brush through his hair and throw on whatever jeans and flannel were on top of the clean laundry pile that day. When he relocated to Lima, he woke up early for morning workout sessions or a run around the neighborhood, always needing to be in top shape for football or swimming. He was even mulling over the idea of doing some modeling after high school, so the extra exercise couldn’t hurt. Today though, Sam felt emotionally hungover. He decided to skip the morning workout in favor of taking it easy and fitting in some weight training this afternoon. Slowly slipping out from under the covers, his bare feet hit the carpet of Blaine’s room. The curly haired boy could sleep pretty late if he let himself, so Sam decided to let him rest and sneak into the bathroom for a shower. 

Locking the door and turning on the hot water, Sam recalled the night before. 

…

_Sam and Blaine both had a surprisingly good time at the Sadie Hawkins dance, despite Blaine’s anxiety whilst getting ready. He kept insisting to Sam that he was doing alright and he was having fun, and judging by his bouncy demeanor, Sam believed him. When the dance was over and students began to file out of the auditorium, giggling while spilling into the parking lot - Sam, Blaine, and Tina stayed behind to help clean up a bit. After wrapping up the last of the electrical chords and picking some stray cups off of the floor, the three teens decided to call it a night. Sam recalled Tina offering to drive Blaine home, but Sam quickly declined on his behalf and insisted that the would be the one to do it. Blaine didn’t argue._

_After accompanying Tina to her car, the two boys made their way to Sam’s truck, which now sat alone in the parking lot. Sam noticed Blaine unconsciously looking behind him every few steps as they approached the truck. Sam wondered if he should say anything._

_He didn’t._

_Sam simply draped his arm around the shorter boy’s shoulders and nonchalantly made a comment about how cold it had gotten, and how happy he was that the rain had stopped. Blaine just made a noise of agreement, but leaned into his touch._

_The ride home was filled with small talk about the odd taste of the punch and how weird it was that Puck had shown up there with Kitty. They wondered if the two things were connected._

_As Sam pulled in the driveway of Blaine’s house, he began to chew on his nail._

_“Thank you, Sam. For everything tonight. Text me when you get home, okay?”_

_Blaine reached for the door handle but stopped to look at Sam when the blonde didn’t respond._

_“Sam?… Hey, are you alright?_

_“Can I come in?” Sam blurted out, flicking his head toward the passengers side._

_Blaine sat slack-jawed for a moment._

_“I’m sorry. I just… you know when you said that you would have to ‘live with what happened to you’? And then you said that now I ‘just have to live with it too?’”_

_“Yeah…”_

_“Well, I guess - ‘living with it’ for me… it makes me want to make sure that you’re safe. Like, I want to make sure you get inside okay, and stuff… I don’t really know what I’m feeling, dude, I-”_

_“No, it’s okay. You can come inside.”_

_Sam bit his lip and nodded. He turned the car off and began to unfasten his seatbelt. Sam couldn’t quite explain it out loud, but he knew exactly what he was feeling in that moment. A whirlpool of dread in his core, which threatened keep spinning until he knew that Blaine was safe, in his bed, and asleep. He didn’t want him to have the nightmares that Blaine had told him about. The ones that he had months after he was assaulted. Sam did believe Blaine when he said that he was fine, but he just wanted to make sure he stayed that way. He also found himself not wanting to be away from the other boy tonight. He wasn’t sure, but Sam had sworn that he caught Blaine staring at him during one of the slow dances. He only knew this because he was staring too._

_Sam was a bit surprised about the fluttering in his stomach when Blaine came down the stairs earlier that evening. He had fixed his hair and his bowtie and neatly buttoned his jacket. He looked sleek and confident, two things that Sam really admired about his friend. He noticed himself lingering on thick eyelashes and hazel eyes when Blaine had asked him if he needed to borrow an umbrella. Sam remembered spluttering out a response as he tried to collect his thoughts. He still didn’t know if he has succeeded in doing so._

_Fast forwarding to after the dance, the two boys climbed the stairs, stepping in small puddles from the earlier rainfall. They made their way into the foyer, kicking off their shoes, and then collected the kitchen._

_“Did you want to stay for a bit?” Blaine mused. Sam bit his lip and nodded again. “I’ll go start the fireplace. Want to go make some hot chocolate? You know where the stuff is.”_

_Sam obliged and moments later the pair were laid on the couch with mugs held in their hands. They watched the orange flames lick the top of the fireplace and listened to the embers fall and crackle._

_“Can I sleep over?”_

_The question ripped though the silence and slightly startled Blaine._

_“Uh, yeah sure. You can borrow some sweatpants if you want.”_

_Sam breathed out a careful sigh of relief. He was glad that he was not only going to be able to see Blaine through the night, but that he would be there to wake up with him in the morning._

_…_

Rinsing the shampoo from his hair, Sam had a passing thought that he would like to wake up next to Blaine every morning, his nose in his curls. 

_Is that weird?_

**"On the floor**

**I pace, I run my mouth**

**I pray and wait**

**I cross out his name on the page"**

When his shower was finished and he swished some mouthwash through his teeth, Sam slipped Blaine’s sweats back on and made his way down stairs. Deciding to start on breakfast, he opened the cabinet and grabbed the waffle mix and iron. He decided he could throw a run into his workout later too. After gathering the rest of the ingredients, Sam went to work on some bacon and drifted into his thoughts again. 

Blaine really was the perfect gay bro. It didn’t matter to Sam that he was gay necessarily, he would be just be the perfect bro otherwise, but Sam actually enjoyed asking him about queer culture and history. Those things were important to Blaine and he was really knowledgeable on the subject, so Sam didn’t feel weird asking him questions about it. Blaine’s eyes would shine a bit brighter when he was talking about important figureheads of the community, especially when it came to music. Sam learned about the Stonewall riots and Harvey Milk. They listened to David Bowie, Melissa Etheridge, George Micheal and Dusty Springfield. He learned about androgyny, club kids, transgender folks, and pansexuality.

_…_

_“Pansexual? That sounds made up.”_

_Blaine chuckled as he flipped through his algebra textbook, “well, it’s from the root word, ‘pan’, meaning ‘all’.”_

_“So you’re into, like, everyone?”_

_“Um, not exactly. You just don’t really limit yourself to who you are attracted to based on gender identity.”_

_“Oh. Like Freddie Mercury?”_

_Blaine chuckled again, “thats a controversial topic but, I’d say so.”_

_Sam refocused himself on the Spanish homework in front of him. He tried to continue conjugating the foreign words on the page, but he could’t get that new word,_ pansexual _out of his mind._

**"How long 'til this washes away?**

**How long 'til my body is safe?**

**How long 'til I walk in the light?**

**How long 'til this heart isn’t mine?"**

Sam transferred the crisp strips of bacon from the pan to a paper towel-lined plate. He grabbed some eggs and cinnamon and began measuring the waffle mix into a bowl. 

Sam loved to love. He thoroughly enjoyed being in relationships and was coined a bit of a ‘serial dater’, notoriously bouncing from one girlfriend to another. He had kissed pretty much every girl in the Glee club including Tina that one time - something they decided they would never tell Blaine about. Nothing ever lasted though. People at McKinley seemed to love relationship triangles - and rectangles, and sometimes even pentagons. Sam liked to think he was a pretty simple guy. He wanted to make people happy, and being a good boyfriend was a surefire way to make someone happy. He loved Quinn’s shy smile when he bought her flowers, and Santana’s passion when they kissed. He really thought that his relationship with Mercedes could have been something great because he could always make her laugh. He loved his past relationships and he looked forward to new ones. After expressing his disappointment in finding out that Mercedes was dating Shane to Miss Pillsbury, she had suggested taking some time for himself to figure out what he really needed. Almost immediately, he shrugged off that comment and began taking a liking to Brittany. 

Now that he was single again, and Brittany had let him know that she wasn’t ready to get over Santana, Sam recalled that advice from the red-headed guidance counselor. Maybe he _could_ benefit from some time alone. Maybe he could lay low and just appreciate his friends and his senior year without having the stress of a girlfriend. 

Of course, this didn’t mean that Sam couldn’t indulge in his appreciation for the human form. 

Sam caught himself staring at others a lot. He actually had learned how to draw by being able to look at people and appreciating their features. Recently, he had been transferring that talent into macaroni art, something he was excited to show Blaine when they got back to school. He didn’t really have a certain ‘type’ that he was drawn to. He was intrigued by the shape of people’s noses, and the roundness of their cheeks. He liked freckles, and deep skin, and shaved heads, and piercings. He had almost gotten caught fixating on a kid named Jared in his English class because Sam couldn’t tear his eyes away from the arch of the boy’s eyebrows. He sketched them in the margins of his notebook and looked away right before Jared had turned to him to ask for a piece of gum. 

Sam had a lot of drawings in his notebooks. Sometimes they were complete figures, but usually bits and pieces of people could be found decorating the pages. A collarbone and shoulder next to a History assignment or Adam’s apple accompanying his Biology notes. Recently, he had taken a liking to drawing his best friend’s hair is all of its forms. It was good for practicing texture. ‘Smooth, shiny and slicked back’ Blaine hair was the easiest. The most fun was half gelled, like when Blaine had been boxing or it was particularly humid out, where the curls would pop out and start to form around his hairline.The freshly dried slept in curls were a challenge, but they were Sam’s favorite. It was the look Blaine was sporting when Sam had left him in the bed this morning - a look you’d only get to see _if_ you woke up next to Blaine. 

**"The rise and fall of his chest on me**

**I'm trying, but still, it's all I see**

**The violent current of energy**

**I hide it away and underneath"**

Sam reflected on how he ended up sleeping next to Blaine anyway. 

…

_Sam usually slept in the living room when he stayed over the Anderson’s. Their couch pulled out to a rather comfortable bed, although after sleeping in a motel for months, Sam’s idea of a comfortable bed was skewed. When the boys finished their hot chocolate and their eyelids became heavy, Sam asked Blaine if he could sleep in his bed with him._

_“If this is about keeping me safe, Sam, I’ll be okay. You’ll be right downstairs, it’s not very far.”_

_Sam gave Blaine a pitiful look._

_“But if you really want to…”_

_He did._

_Blaine had fallen asleep rather quickly. The day must have been exhausting for him. He barely was able to stand up while taking a quick shower before climbing under the duvet next to Sam. Sam laid awake for a little while longer, staring at the ceiling with his hand tucked behind his head. He wasn’t sure why he was unable to drift to sleep himself - he knew that he was worn out too. Suddenly, there was a shifting next to him. Blaine rolled over from his side to his back, revealing his face. He didn’t look distressed, so Sam ruled out a nightmare and opted not to wake him up. There was moonlight coming from the window above Blaine’s desk - its surface still damp from the rain earlier. Sam felt as though he was in some soapy romance novel, the thought of staring at the other boy who was just illuminated by moonlight made him chuckle softly._

_Blaine shifted again, this time rolling to his other side and facing Sam. His head landed on the blonde’s chest and his arm over his bare stomach. Sam wondered if he should move, or if he should move Blaine._

_He didn’t._

_Instead, he took his arm from underneath his head and placed it on Blaine’s shirtless back, pulling him in the smallest bit. Hearing the soft inhales and exhales of the boy nestled next to him, Sam matched the rhythm with his own breathing. Simultaneously, he felt more relaxed and more energized. Where Blaine was touching him he felt a rush of energy, not unlike pins and needles. He didn’t want to move or make a sound. He felt as though he was holding something delicate and valuable. Maybe he was._

_The butterflies in his stomach had returned and Sam hoped that Blaine couldn’t feel them through his skin._

**"Lock the door**

**I shake, I promise every day to change**

**I cross out his name on the page"**

Sam thought back to the first time that he had met Kurt as he set out plates and cutlery on the kitchen island. 

…

_“Okay, maybe you are straight.”_

_“What?”_

_“Nothing.”_

_The boy with the rosy cheeks and high pitched voice had come on a little strong for Sam. He recalls some conversation about his hair color and a duet, but the rest was a little fuzzy. The point is that Sam had never been asked about his sexuality before. The comment hung with him for the remainder of the day as he tried to remember which hallways all of his classes where in. As he continued throughout his day, it seemed that this wasn’t the only time that Sam was going to be confronted with the topic of being queer. Sam heard mutterings in the Chemistry lab about the possibility of Santana and Brittany secretly making out and the scandalized comments that followed. He heard a girl on the lunch line being berated for dressing like a ‘dyke”. Sam wondered why this school was so obsessed with homosexuality, and why it was so bad. The conversation with Finn in the locker room shortly after was the tipping point._

_“You gotta lay low a little bit, and singing a duet with another dude is not laying low.”_

_“I didn’t realize you had a problem with gay dudes.”_

_“Look, I don’t have a problem with gay dudes, everyone else does, and we’re living in their world. And, in their world, you singing a duet with Kurt is a death sentence.”_

_Sam sighed._

_“Well, I gave him my word. And, in my world, that’s that.”_

_Sam shut his locker and walked out of the room. He wondered where everyone got off thinking they could treat people like this. Why it was okay to be afraid to sing one goddamn song with another dude._

_A wall of ice and corn syrup shocked him out of his thoughts._

_“Welcome to glee club, lady lips!”_

_…_

Sam poured the first cup of waffle batter onto the iron and listened to it sizzle. After closing the iron, he continued to recall the rest of that day. Thats the day he caught feelings for Quinn and knew she would end up being his girlfriend. When she did, Sam didn’t have to dwell on Kurt’s comment about being straight anymore, everyone now assumed that he was. He remembered when Kurt ‘set him free’ from singing the duet with him. Sam could still remember asking Kurt if he had done something to offend him. The reality of the McKinley High culture had yet to fully sink in. After that day, Sam started the serial dating, going from one girl to the next. 

He actually never thought of queerness in regards to himself again, and he started to think that maybe he should have. He wasn’t afraid of it then - what did this school do to him that made him so afraid now? 

**"How long 'til this washes away?**

**How long 'til my body is safe?**

**How long 'til I walk in the light?**

**How long 'til this heart isn’t mine?"**

The light on the waffle iron clicked from red to green, signaling that it was finished cooking. Sam, transitioning into autopilot, pulled the waffle onto a plate and started another one. The blonde had started to take a chisel to a wall in his mind. A wall that was holding back thoughts and realizations that had been there for years. The wall he built as he licked that slushy of his lips in the hallway that day he joined glee club.

He though back to his notebooks, full of sketches of lips and necks that he would gladly kiss. Full of hands he would hold and hair he would pull. Full of all shapes, sizes, colors… and genders. 

He thought about the movies he loved. Usually Fantasy, sci-fi, or action movies that had kick ass characters across the spectrum. Sam’s eyes would widen for Wolverine as much as they did for Mystique.

Sam thought about the crushes that he had. Quinn and Mercedes and Brittany. He loved to make them smile and laugh. He liked to make sure they were safe. He liked to stay over and wake up next to them in the morning. He liked to make them breakfast. He always felt butterflies fluttering in his stomach when he saw them. He-

“Oh my God” Sam said aloud and the light on the waffle iron turned green. 

**"Take this wildness away**

**Wildness away**

**Wildness away**

**Ah, ah"**

Sam pressed his palms to his face. He could feel the heat coming off of his cheeks. He immediately started to doubt himself as soon as the thought of having a crush on Blaine crossed his mind. 

_Blaine doesn’t deserve any doubts._

Sam knew that he couldn’t go running to the other boy and confess anything just yet. Usually, when he wanted to ask someone out, it was pretty easy for him to follow through. This time, however the situation had a little more baggage and a lot more to lose. He contemplated trying to deal with one issue at a time. Was he even ready to come out? Is that something that he had to do now? The one person that he would want to talk to about this was the one person that he didn’t think he should - Blaine. Maybe he could talk to Miss Pillsbury? _Nah._ Or maybe he could call Kurt? _No, that would be weird._

He was on his own.

**"I'm trying, but still, I close my eyes**

**The dreaming, bringing his face to mine"**

Some would say that Sam wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, but he did consider himself smart in areas other than academics. He was actually very perceptive and liked to remember details about people, just like when he surprised Blaine with the cinnamon rolls and sparklers after they won the election. He noticed every time Blaine had looked at him, like at the dance last night. He noticed the way Blaine leaned into Sam’s hugs, and how he never disagreed with Sam staying over his house ‘just a few more minutes’.He remembered Blaine borrowing his favorite blue t-shirt after a slushy incident one day. Sam just so happened to have it in his car, and was able to give it to the shivering boy. He hadn’t seen that shirt since that day. 

Little moments like this helped Sam conclude that Blaine liked him in ‘that way’ too, making the situation that much harder. 

The point that Sam was trying to make to himself was that, odds are, if he was honest with Blaine about his crush, then he ran the risk of hurting him. If those doubts creeped in his head or if Sam realized he wasn’t ready to embrace this new part of himself, his best friend would be the one getting hurt in the process. Blaine was the most wonderful friend that he had made in a long time - it was crucial that he didn’t go and mess that up. 

**"Out the door**

**I pace, I run my mouth**

**I pray to change**

**I cross out his name on the page"**

_The only way to do this is to be sure that you are ready for it. Completely and 100%._

Sam swallowed thickly and poured another waffle in the iron.

_If I’m not all in, I have to keep it cool. No more drawing him in my notebooks, no more cuddling in bed with him - God, what was I thinking? Was I leading him on without even knowing it?_

_When and if I’m ready to talk to him about this I’ll be ready to hold his hand and take him on a date. I’ll be ready to ask him to go to prom with me. I’ll be ready to kiss him._

Sam decided to give himself at least a week and then ask himself these questions. He wanted to have a clear head when he made his decision. 

Just for comparison, though, he thought about what his answers would be in this moment right now.

**"How long 'til this washes away?**

**How long 'til my body is safe?**

**How long 'til this heart isn't mine?"**

_Do I want to hold his hand?_

_Yes._

_Do I want to take him out on a date?_

_Yes._

_Do I want to take him to prom?_

_Yes._

_Do I want to kiss him?_

_God, yes._

**"I just want him in my arms**

**I just want him in my arms"**

Sam heard a noise from upstairs. He froze. The Anderson’s home was large and had a lot of indulgent toys, but it was still an old house. This caused drafty areas and creaky floorboards that made it easy to know in which room everyone was located. Blaine was awake and headed toward the kitchen, probably smelling the bacon and the cinnamon he added to the waffle batter. Sam took a deep breath and made his way to the landing to greet him. 

Sam watched as Blaine descended the stairs, much like he did the night prior. This time though, he wasn’t wearing a suit and a neat bowtie. He didn’t have his hair slicked back and carefully polished shoes. His cologne had been washed away and his vintage cufflinks were safely stored in a jewelry box upstairs. 

This time, Blaine’s curls crawled haphazardly over his head. A familiar blue cotton t-shirt hung where his suit jacket once did, a pair of gray flannel bottoms replaced his stiff dress pants. Blaine’s eyes were bleary and obviously still adjusting to the light of the morning, but Sam caught himself lingering on them, once again. 

“G’Mornin’”, Blaine croaked, “I think I smell breakfast, and if I’m right I think I might kiss you”.

And, right on cue, Sam’s stomach began to flutter. 


	6. Chapstick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things to note: Basically just some fluff after an angsty episode ("Naked"). I really love this chapter because I love the chapstick scene in “Sadie Hawkins” and wanted to expand on it. Lots of dialogue! Thank you again for reading!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: Chapstick - Hippo Campus
> 
> Takes place during 4x12 “Naked”

**"I felt my face before**

**You saw my feet through the door**

**You saw my lips split**

**I could not feel a thing**

**You shared your chapstick**

**You shared your lipstick more**

**As we rest on**

**The dirty kitchen floor"**

“That video today, man. I know you said not to mention it-”

“Then don’t.”

Blaine scanned the array of spices on the shelf at the grocery store, trying to locate bay leaves. His eyes narrowed as he searched through the lines of small glass jars with one had roaming in front of him, and the other holding his shopping cart. Still not finding what he was looking for, he continued the conversation with Sam without looking away from the shelf.

“ _You_ did all of those things, Sam. Your friends said those things because they’re true, not because I told them to. I just edited a video.”

Plucking the correct jar off the shelf and placing in the cart, Blaine continued to push forward. Sam trailed behind.

“I know… I just- let me thank you again. Not just for that, for this whole day. The colleges, the pep talks, offering to help me with my essay. I’m sorry I was such a dick at the calendar shoot, I was having a total meltdown.” 

Blaine, rather swiftly, traveled to the produce section. Sam found himself jogging a bit to keep up as he spoke.

“You weren’t a dick…”. Blaine mumbled as he placed two heads of garlic in a plastic bag, knotting it closed. He placed them in the cart next to the bay leaves and continued for the next aisle. 

“Oh, I was bro. I yelled at everyone. I hate that I did that-”

“Then stop bringing it up, dude. Like you saw, no one is mad at you, so please don’t be mad at yourself”, Blaine stopped short in the frozen aisle, turning to face Sam. His hazel eyes burned with resolution and his words were firm.

Sam swallowed. As usual, Blaine was right. He stood as frozen as the popsicles in the freezer next to him. He watched the dark haired boy’s face soften for a fraction of a second and then turn back to the cart. Blaine exited the aisle and pivoted toward the checkout line. After a moment to himself, Sam caught up with him and noticed a small refrigerator near the register for last minute beverage purchases. Opening it, Sam pulled out an energy drink in a bright yellow can.

“Oh shit, Sam-”, Blaine sighed as he noticed the can. He looked up at the blonde, this time with concern in his eyes.

“What?”

“I forgot! You mentioned how exhausted you where this afternoon. That was _before_ dance rehearsal for Glee and swim practice. What are you doing here with me? You should be going home and resting.”

Sam, admittedly, was significantly more drained than he was this afternoon. Honestly it was more of the emotional turmoil rather than the physical activity that did him in. Crying twice in one school day would do that to a guy.

“I’m okay, really. I honestly _want_ to hang with you, and I think cooking dinner together will really help me get back on track you know? Or, would it be back _off_ track? Who cares, all I know is that it’s leftover night at Finn’s and all I have there is steamed broccoli and protein powder.”

Blaine grimaced. “Well, only if you’re sure”, he checked, nonchalantly grabbing the can from Sam’s hand and added it to his conveyor belt. 

“I’m sure”. Sam’s lips split into a smile to reassure his friend. He felt the discomfort of his chapped lips. Sam silently reminded himself to ask to borrow Blaine’s chapstick when they got into the car. 

Maybe it was the talk of the moon landing on the drive to the store. Conspiracy theories did always made Sam’s lips chapped.  ****

**"They try to sweep us**

**Into the cracks and walls**

**We use our chapstick**

**To share the love we trust"**

Ever since Sam had asked Blaine to borrow his chapstick at the Sadie Hawkins dance it had become their _thing._

Sam was actually surprised that Blaine had handed it to him in the first place. He fondly recalled the other boy’s wide eyes when asking him - they were on the way to tell Finn about the Warbler conspiracy. 

He figured it would to be a toss up wether his now-famous lips would remain chapped in that moment or not. 

Blaine could easily be read as a fussy kind of guy. He had his gelled hair and ‘buttoned up’ sense of fashion - and he would admit to you himself that he was a bit of a control freak. These things could easily be associated with someone who was overprotective of their belongings, particular about things, or possibly a germaphobe. Sam knew that Blaine, to another point, could be really chill - he was open to all kinds of music, he always wanted to sleep late, and he would try any food at least once. 

Trying his luck, he remembered bullshitting something about being ‘like brothers’, and that seemed to have worked because Blaine had offered him the tube. Thinking back on it now, Sam had realized he had probably flustered the poor guy - that is if his inkling about Blaine’s crush on him was true. 

_Maybe I should have just kissed him then and there. Gotten the chapstick that way._

Either way, it was now commonplace for the taller boy to simply tap on Blaine’s shoulder and hold out his hand for the lip balm. On one hand, Sam felt guilty for using the stuff probably more that Blaine did, but on the other hand, he never wanted to buy it for himself again. He liked knowing what Blaine’s lips would taste like and the faint blush on the other boys cheeks as he applied it was endearing. He loved sharing something so intimate, and he secretly knew that Blaine liked it too. Blaine never suggested that he keep the tube he borrowed and not once did he ask Sam to get one of his own.

**"Ooh, ooh, ooh**

**To share the love we trust**

**Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh**

**To share the love we trust"**

“So, first things first, I want to grab you some chapstick so you don’t have to use mine while-”

Sam nearly did a spit take as he chugged the energy drink in his hand, interrupting Blaine’s statement with a fit of coughing and spluttering. 

“What? Why?” He exclaimed as he choked. They had entered though the automatic doors of a drugstore. Blaine had wanted to stop there before heading home to cook dinner. Sam’s rather loud questioning turned a few heads. 

The brunette shushed Sam, delicately, placing his index finger on his lips. 

“Sorry”, Sam whispered, “I just- is it weird that I’d rather just borrow yours?”

“No, no…well, maybe, but you can go back to borrowing mine in a few weeks. I just- I feel a sore throat coming on, y’know, and with everyone in this area code getting the flu this winter, I don’t want to wind up getting you sick.” Blaine rested his hand on his neck to emphasize his point, “when I’m sure I’m not contagious you can use mine again, but-”, he pulled a packaged chapstick off of its display and handed it to Sam, “for now, this guy is all yours.”

Sam looked down at him with a pout and took the balm in his hand.

“Is this the same kind that you use? That kind…works really well for uh…for my lips.”

Blaine chuckled at his stammering, “Yes, Sam, it’s the same kind that I use. I’ll pay for it since I’m the one forcing it on you, but I just want to grab some cough drops and vitamin C - and then we can get out of here.”

**"At the drugstore**

**You told me everything**

**You said there's good news**

**I said there's no such thing**

**You said you're certain**

**I said there's no way how**

**Pulled out your chapstick**

**It's all too real right now"**

“I went back to talk to Miss Pillsbury again before swim practice today. I think… I think I wanna go to art school.”

Blaine’s eyebrows shot up and he looked over at Sam, disregarding the pill bottle in his hand. 

“Sam! That’s amazing! You’re _so_ naturally talented. I’ve seen your sketchbooks.”

“You have?” 

“Yeah, why?”

“Nothing, never mind”, Sam flushed to a warm shade of pink. Most of those books were filled with drawings of Blaine himself. 

“And I’m sure that a creative school would have some great music electives or extracurriculars. I don’t want you to ever stop singing, or at least playing the guitar”, Blaine looked back at the bottle he was holding. 

Sam smiled, an odd rambunctious energy rumbling in his stomach. For once, he felt excited about his future. 

“I was even thinking about looking at some schools in New York, y’know. There’s a few that I got some brochures on. I know out of state tuition will be more expensive, but I’ll figure it out. I think a change in scenery would be good for me y’know- you’re always talking about that. I mean I was thinking about trying to get some modeling gigs anyway, so-.”

“Don’t mess with me- New York?! Please, come to New York with me”, Blaine almost begged tossing a bag of cherry cough drops in his basket, “not to make it about me, it’s completely up to you, but maybe we could get an apartment or something? I mean Kurt and Rachel are there but we hardly keep in touch - it would be _so_ amazing to have my best friend there with me. My best friend - the freakin’ artist!”

That energy in Sam’s stomach threatened to explode. A giddiness overtook him as he imagined waking up next to Blaine and his bed-head every morning, in a shitty apartment in the city. Light would shine in the window, landing on his bare shoulders. Sam could draw him in his sketchbook and then go make a pot of coffee for the two of them - the smell always succeeding in waking Blaine up in the morning. Sam would get dressed and grab his portfolio and guitar case and head to class. Tears pricked in his eyes at the thought of something that sounded so simple, but so perfect. 

“Hey, you okay there?” Blaine had noticed the glassiness in the other boy’s eyes. 

“Yeah, yeah”, Sam sniffled and flashed a smile, “I just - like you said, I’m really tired. It’s been a weird day.”

“I know, I’m sorry I’m taking too long - let’s get home, okay?”

**"Ooh, ooh, ooh**

**It's all too real right now**

**Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh**

**I said there's no way how**

**Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh**

**It's all too real right now**

**Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh"**

The pair barely succeeded in making their homemade dinner. They drowsily trimmed the chicken and cut garlic in almost silence, using only post-verbal sounds to communicate to one another. After all the ingredients were in the pot and set to cook for thirty minutes, the giggly delirium began. Somehow the boys ended up on the kitchen floor, tears streaming from their eyes due to incessant laughter. To this day, they can’t remember what made them laugh so hard. 

After the half hour was up and they settled on the couch with bowls of stewed chicken and rice in their hands they talked about New York. Blaine, as eagerly as he could muster, offered to help Sam put together his portfolio and complete his application. A blush formed high on the curly haired boy’s cheeks, not unlike when he watched Sam apply his chapstick. Sam had hoped that enthusiasm about about living in New York with him had caused it, and he wasn’t succumbing to a fever along with his sore throat. 

Sam smiled lazily, placing his empty bowl on the coffee table. He found himself focusing on Blaine’s lips, still stained red from the cough drops he had been sucking on throughout the night. Thinking back to his agreement that he made with himself, he noted that he still wanted to kiss Blaine. He still wanted to hold his hand and take him on a date. He still wanted to take him to prom. He added to the list that he wanted to move in with Blaine after high school - make dinner every night and wind up on the floor in fits of laughter. 

_And, honestly? It all seems like it could really happen. It doesn’t seem crazy. It seems simple - and perfect._


	7. Hug All Ur Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things to note: Rewrite of 'Diva'. My guilty pleasures are Blaine sickfics and goofy yet sweet Sam Evans, so I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: Hug All Ur Friends (Extended Version) - Cavetown
> 
> Takes Place During 4x13 "Diva"

**"What's it like to be alone on a Sunday**

**Remembering the time you saw them just yesterday?**

**Sing me a song, tell me your thoughts**

**I could listen to you all night long"**

Sam felt as though his eyelids were made of stone as he listened to some lecture on Mesopotamia in his history class. He regretted not skipping again to go mess around on the piano in the auditorium, but now that he was actually _trying_ to get into a college - he decided to go ahead and attend the class. He was quickly reminded on why he skipped this one in the first place.

Finding himself fighting to stay awake, Sam began to draw in the margins of his notebook, which was scarily devoid of any actual notes. He convinced himself that he may be able to listen better if his mind was focused on something, and not drifting to sleep. He sketched out his History teacher. Wispy gray hair, pronounced eyebrows, jowls, and broad shoulders despite a short height. Sam enjoyed the proportions of the man. He found them interesting.

Sam's attempt to pay attention to the lesson quickly proved to be a failure. Instead he began to daydream about this past weekend. Sam had spend it alone in the Hummel-Hudson basement playing video games and pouting because Blaine's parents had uncharacteristically been home for the weekend. Blaine, in turn, had been stuck with them for the whole two days. Sam missed him, but he guessed it was important for Blaine to spend time with his family - though, the brunette did have more of a business relationship with his parents than a familial one.

They had _scheduled_ dinners at fancy restaurants and _scheduled_ family meetings about Blaine's college plans and a _scheduled_ visit with Blaine's Uncle in Dayton. _Basically the Anderson's love schedules_ , Sam concluded - and as _scheduled_ , Mr. and Mrs, Anderson would be heading to Scottsdale this afternoon for some sort of conference again. Blaine had halfheartedly explained to Sam that they were in the hotel industry and had managed a bunch of luxury resorts all over the country. For this reason their lives had always revolved around a _schedule_ , and not around Blaine.

Sam had felt bad for the kid, he was still fighting that sore throat - emphasized by a constant cherry red tongue due to excessive cough drop use. He also assumed that, judging the way he looked on Friday, he wasn't really telling how bad he actually felt. Probably in an attempt not to disrupt the plans for his weekend. Those plans included making pinched small talk with his parents, avoiding acting too flamboyant, and talking about the future on the hours drive to Dayton. Sam hoped he wasn't too miserable.

' _Although, maybe Blaine is feeling okay now',_ Sam contemplated as he shaded in his teachers oddly patterned sweater, ' _that performance of "Don't Stop Me Now" last period was… brilliant. It was so powerful and full on 'diva'. And all that leather…'_

Sam was rudely interrupted from reminiscing further about Blaine's leather pants, when there was a buzz in his pocket from his phone. Slyly slipping the device into his hand and hiding it under his desk, Sam looked at the new message he had received, and it just so happened to be from Blaine.

' _Hey man - if there's any way you can get out of class right now, I could really use some help. Choir room. Lmk asap. -B'_

Sam didn't hesitate, his hand shot up but he didn't wait for his teacher to call on him.

"Mr. Weiss, I need to go to the nurse. I think I might throw up."

"Mr. Evans, you pulled that one with me last week…" he turned to Sam, "but you do actually look a little pale-"

"Thank you, sir - I'm really bummed I'm missing out on learning about… messo-pomadia?…"

"…Feel better Mr. Evans", his teacher rolled his eyes and turned back to his whiteboard.

Sam, barely holding on to his belongings in his arms, smiled thankfully at the vertically challenged history teacher. Stumbling out the door, he half-jogged down the hall toward the choir room. Truth is, he did look pale, probably caused by his worry after reading that text. He broke into a full jog just thinking about it again. He just hoped Blaine was okay.

Reaching the choir room in record time, Sam less than gracefully pushed himself through the door. He saw Blaine sitting on the piano bench with his head in his hands, and he worryingly didn't look up despite the raucous. Blaine was still in his white tank top from his performance, but he had changed into a pair of sweatpants that Sam had seen him wear for gym class. His hair was mussed from the hat he sported earlier, and the sweat from dancing in an all leather ensemble. He was wearing socks, but no shoes.

Sam had also noticed the chaos that surrounded the boy on the piano bench. Blaine's leather pants were turned inside out and tossed on the floor along with the black boots he had worn. A pair of white sneakers that he had bought to wear for his short stint with the Cheerios were sitting next to him on the bench. On top of the piano was his Freddie Mercury hat, his messenger bag, and the cell phone that he had used to text Sam only minutes ago.

"Blaine? Hey, it's me, I'm here", Sam dropped his backpack and books on the floor next to him and hurried over to Blaine, kneeling in front of him and placing a hand on his knee, "talk to me, are you okay?"

Sam saw Blaine squeeze his eyes tighter beneath his fingers. Without looking up, he answered Sam's question between huffs of shallow breath.

"I… getting changed… dizzy…"

Sam shot up and went over to his backpack, taking out his water bottle from the side pocket.

"Here, drink this for me, okay? And keep breathing. Do you feel sick?"

Blaine took one hand off of his face and reached around with his hand for the bottle. After taking a sip from it, he looked up at Sam with bright eyes filled with both gratitude and discomfort.

"Not like-", Blaine mimed vomiting, "sick, but yeah… terrible."

Sam noted that he _looked_ terrible as well. That vibrant blush had returned to his cheeks and he slouched as if every muscle in his body ached. He was slightly trembling and gripping on the the piano bench now as if he was about to slide right off of it. Sam pulled off his gray hoodie and draped it over Blaine's shoulders.

For the next few moments, Sam gathered Blaine's things off the floor. Without hesitation or permission, he slid the white sneakers on to his feet and tied them. He flashed back to when he used to help with his younger brother Stevie's shoes before he learned to tie them himself.

"Thanks, Sam… walk me…to the nurse?"

"Dude, do you want me to just take you home? I can stay with you, I mean- the nurse us just going to give you a baby aspirin and an ice pack and send you home anyway, right? And, c'mon you're in no shape to drive - and um, I'm guessing your parents are already at the airport?"

Blaine sighed in defeat, "Yeah… we'll uh… figure out logistics later… let's go."

Sam laughed at Blaine's use of advanced vocabulary despite his current state. The two boys made the journey to Blaine's locker to grab his coat and then to Sam's truck. The blonde turned on the heat and the radio as he usually did, and then pulled out of the parking lot. Unconsciously, Sam began singing along to a classic country ballad that played through his speakers. He noticed Blaine look over at him, his head tiredly leaning on the headrest.

"Sorry, too loud? Does your head hurt?"

"No, don't stop… keep singing". Blaine closed his eyes and his lips fell into a faint smile.

**"And I don't care about my sleeping routine**

**I fucked it up as it is but we got so much time to kill**

**As the night rocks me to sleep"**

After shlepping Blaine up his stairway and into the living room, Sam scurried around the kitchen grabbing supplies. Stevie and Stacy caught colds and flus like it was their job. A hygiene lesson didn't seem to be implemented at their elementary school and there was always something going around. This, though, had made Sam an expert in runny noses and tummy aches, and he was happy to use his expertise to help Blaine. He kind of missed taking care of his siblings, and he knew he had a few tricks up his sleeve.

Blaine laid curled on the couch in a feverish heap. He was still wearing his coat. Sam strode over and knelt next to him.

"Hey, dude, before you fall sleep can you do a few things for me?"

Blaine nodded, eyes closed and then pushed himself into a sitting position. He cracked one eye open to look at the boy in front of him.

"There he is…" Sam cooed, "Lets first get some aspirin in you - I have some water too. And then let's wash your face and get into some more comfortable clothes. Then you can go to bed. Sound good?"

"You… talk to me like a kid", Blaine weakly chuckled.

"Okay, well I'm used to talking to Stevie and Stacy, y'know? Now answer me - does it sound good?"

Blaine nodded and held out his hand for the water and medication. He grimaced as he swallowed it. Blaine silently cursed himself for even going to school today. He was so excited for his 'Diva Week' number that he forced himself into those godforsaken leather pants and powered through it, but the overexertion made it hurt to even blink right now. ' _It was worth it, though. That Freddie number was so cathartic. 'Guys can't be divas' my ass.'_

The two boys clumsily climbed the stairs to Blaine's bathroom. It was a miracle that Sam had gotten his unbalanced friend up there in one piece. He had sat Blaine down on the closed lid of the toilet and used a washcloth doused in cool water on his face. Sam could swear could hear sounds, not unlike a purr, coming from Blaine's chest. He was glad this was making him feel at least a little bit better. Helping Blaine shed his coat, Sam then moved the washcloth to the back of his neck. The sick boy folded his arms in front of him and began to shudder, but let Sam continue.

They then made their way to their final destination, Blaine's bedroom. Sam was glad that the brunette was already wearing sweatpants, so he only had to assist him in changing him out of his tank top. He plucked a familiar blue shirt out of Blaine's top dresser drawer and pulled it over his head, then maneuvered his arms through the sleeves.

"There. Now you can lay down, but scoot over - I'm just gonna shut the curtains and the lights."

"Scoot over?" Blaine mumbled.

"Yeah - just go with it, dude. I always nap with my siblings when they're sick. Especially my little sister, she can't fall asleep without me there, sometimes. I, uh, gave her a stuffed dog named Sam when I left to come back to Lima, so she'd have something to hold on to." Sam recalled the fond memory as he pulled the curtain's closed.

"Sam… That's so sweet."

"So scoot over!" Sam laughed while kicking off his shoes.

"Won't taking a nap this late in the day keep you from sleeping tonight?"

"Ah, my sleeping schedule has been fucked up for a while now. Stop making excuses. Scoot."

Blaine drowsily obliged as Sam flicked the light switch into the 'off' position. He slid under the covers and, as nonchalantly as he could manage, rested his chin on Blaine's head, nestling the boy's warm face into the crook of his neck. Blaine melted into the touch and they both fell asleep within milliseconds.

**"Remember when we felt like animations**

**And didn't need A grades for self-validation?**

**Tell me about the things that you love**

**The world simply needs more affection 'cause"**

About an hour later, Sam stirred. He opened his eyes to find himself in his favorite place - nuzzled in Blaine's hair. This time it wasn't soft curls - more like broken pieces of cement, but it didn't matter. The important part was that is still felt like Blaine and smelled like him - this time with the added aroma of cherry cough drops.

"Dude?" Sam whispered down into his scalp. No response. "Blaine?" Nothing again.

Smiling, Sam pulled him closer to his chest. He hated having to wake the other boy, but he decided that more water and something to eat would do Blaine some good.

"C'mon bro, I know you can hear me."

A groan confirmed this theory.

"Let's make a deal. I come bring you toast or soup and you try and eat some, and then I'll stop bothering you and let you sleep. Deal?"

Shoving his face deeper in the pillow, Blaine grunted. Sam took it as an agreement and hurried downstairs before the sick boy could protest. He found some chicken broth in the cupboard and put it on the stove, along with slices of bread in the toaster. Sam wasn't sure if Blaine was a 'tea kind of guy' when he was sick. He knew that the brunette barely touched the stuff normally, favoring coffee every time, so he held off putting on the kettle until he was sure. Sam got to thinking as he rifled thought the storage underneath the kitchen island, looking for some sort of tray. He may not have gotten a good score on his SAT's, but isn't helping someone feel better when they are sick more important? Remembering if they like tea or not? Or teaching their little brother how to tie his shoes, even if it takes months? Sam had to remind himself of this more and more recently as his academic failures were constantly pushed in his face at school.

A familiar creaking sound signaled movement upstairs, and brought Sam back into focus. He was surprised Blaine chose to try and get out of bed.

The creaking continued and Blaine was soon at the top of the staircase gripping the bannister. He slowly made his way down toward this friend.

"I would have brought it up to you."

"N-, -ts fine. Th-nks. Sh-t." Blaine's voice seemed to have given up on him, clumsily skipping over vowels. _'Doing 'Don't Stop Me Now' was either the best decision I've made today or the worst',_ he thought.

"Do you think you can get the fireplace going? I'll bring everything into the living room and we can just hang here?"

Blaine was grateful that Sam could usually read his mind. He was just perceptive in that way, and that would make his rapidly diminishing voice easier to work with. Nodding to Sam, Blaine turned and headed to the living room.

…

Blaine sipped his soup and Sam had joined in snacking on slices of toast. Turns out Blaine wasn't a tea person - even while sick, and Sam made a note to remember that.

After finishing their meal they found themselves staring at the fire, like they had many nights before. Sam was sat leaning his back on the arm of the chair, facing Blaine with his legs crossed. He caught glimpses of Blaine every few moments to gauge how he was feeling. He seemed alright, despite his pinched eyebrows and winces when he needed to swallow.

"Did you want to head to sleep again? I can go-"

Blaine, eyes still fixated on the fire, shook his head. "T-lk t- me" He croaked.

"Talk to you?"

Blaine nodded this time. Sam could see the orange and yellow reflecting in his eyes.

"About -nything. T-ll m- about th-ngs you lov-. Art, your f-mily. Do -n impr-ssion. I j-st w-nt to hear you t-lk."

Blaine recalled being sick as a child. His older brother would tell him grand stories about dinosaurs and superheroes and it always made Blaine feel better. Blaine didn't know if Cooper was doing it to help little brother, or if it was to hear the sound of his own voice, but either way, it made Blaine feel less lonely. When Cooper got older and had better things to do than spin dramatic tales for Blaine's amusement - Blaine would take his fathers old transistor radio that he found deep in the basement and kept it next to his pillow. He listened to hours of NPR and other AM stations just to hear people tell stories and talk about their lives. Wether it be while he was sick or sad or scared - it always seemed to help. He decided to try his luck and see if Sam could replace Cooper or that little metal box with the broken antenna. Luckily, Sam didn't ask questions or tell him he was weird, instead, he just started talking.

"Oh dude, I've been working on this radio announcer impression - like nothing to obnoxious though, more like a sexy night-time radio show host. Can I do that?"

Blaine couldn't help but laugh hoarsely. Again, Sam's mind reading was coming through for him.

"P-rfect."

Blaine decided to make a bold move - he could always blame it on the fever later. Before he could scare himself out of it, he turned around to face away from Sam and pushed himself backwards, leaning his back onto Sam's chest. He waited for he other boy to extend his legs and then he did the same. Sam draped his arms around Blaine's waist and they settled into the couch. Blaine could feel his breath tickling his cheek. As Sam began to speak, the low timbre of his 'radio voice' rumbled right into his ear, just like when the transistor sat next to his pillow.

He closed his eyes, and listened.

**"I don't care about what people think of me**

**I'm fucked up as it is but we got so much time to kill**

**And so many things to see"**

"Hello and thank you for tuning into 101.3 The Fire, this is your host Evan Evans and I'm glad you could tune in tonight, we have quite a show for you…"

Blaine laughed through his nose couldn't contain his grin. He could hear Sam's smile in his voice as he continued.

"The first segment is a listener question from, uh… Matthew in Wisconsin. Matthew says, 'Dear Evan, I've been having trouble trying new things. I guess I'm scared of what people will think of me. I've always lived life a certain way, and I've been happy, I guess. Is it worth risking what I have now to try something new?'… Well, Matthew, thank you for your question. I say look at it this way - when exactly were we taught to care what people think of us? For some, it was their parents. Telling their kids not to sing too loud in public or that they're not allowed to wear their princess dress to the grocery store. That they have to be something that their _parents_ want them to be, which is usually just a more successful version of themselves… For _me_ though, it was in high school. Before high school, I could care less about people's opinions of me - but the ins and outs of teenage politics are a real thing, and I found myself stuck in a box. Sure, I had friends and passions, but I missed out on a lot of things that could have been really good for me - all because I was told I had to dress, learn, and love a certain way. I'm forty-three now, and I wish I could go back and tell myself not to fall into that box, and if I did anyway - fight your way out as soon as you can, dude. There are too many things to see in this world to be limited. Try a new food, take a class, talk to the person you're scared to talk to. Take that trip you've been waiting for. My final words on the matter are - _risk it_."

Sam hoped that Blaine didn't hear him sniffle or feel the tear that landed in his hair.

He didn't.

Blaine had already submitted to sleep again, but Sam didn't realize, unable to see the other boy's face. He continued.

**"Life's too short to worry about things that we got wrong**

**So hug all your friends and let**

**them know you're not letting go**

**No I won't let go"**

"Before we move on, I wanted to… talk about this story I read online. An _elephant_ and a _dog_ have become best friends, after they met at a zoo in South Carolina… Have you heard this? The elephant's parents were killed by poachers and she was rescued and taken to the US. While she was growing up here, the person responsible for building her pool in her section of the zoo had abandoned his puppy in there with her…and they became friends. They hang out together every day now, and swim in the pool, and I just thought that was incredible. They were both alone, and they found each other… Let's take a lesson from them tonight, shall we, listeners? Hug your friends tomorrow, for no reason other than they help us to not take this world on alone."

Sam had smiled at his story - Tina had actually sent the article to him today on Facebook - she knew he enjoyed unlikely animal friendships. His voice started to get sore from the gravelly radio announcer impression. He had momentarily forgotten that Blaine was cuddled up on his lap as he began talking basically just for himself now. He enjoyed both getting to practice his voice acting and processing his thoughts.

**"You don't know what it's like to be nothing at all**

**When the night turns cold, my thoughts feel like stone**

**And it's nothing I can't change, but I can't breathe anymore**

**I forgot how to walk by myself**

**I could do with a little more of your help"**

"Our last question is from Mary in Oklahoma - hello, Mary. 'Dear Evan, I feel like I depend on my best friend too much for emotional support. Is it not healthy to lean on her when I'm feeling down?" Good question, Mary. I think that it maybe cliche to say, but that's what friends are for, right? Friends are chosen, and that's for a reason. They're the ones that make the agreement to hold your hand through a storm without saying a word, y'know. When you're numb, they know how to make you feel again. When you forget how to breathe, they fill you with air. I'm sure your best friend knows that… you need help sometimes, and she also knows that you'll be there when she needs you too. It's balance, y'know? Then you balance all of that with the good times. Celebration, success, and hope for the future. I hope you figure things out soon, Mary, but for now, lean on your friend - I'm sure she's happy to support you."

**"Life's too short to worry about things that we got wrong**

**So hug all your friends and let them know**

**You're not letting go**

**I'm not letting go"**

Sam had put it together that Blaine was asleep in his arms, soft snores coming from below him. He signed off of his faux radio show anyway.

"Thank you all for tuning in and sending in your questions. Tomorrow night we are going to discuss the percentage of firework related injuries on the Fourth of July, and wether Freddie Mercury was pansexual or not. For now though - I hope the rest of your night is calm, and tomorrow - tell your friends that you love them, and take a goddamn risk. Maybe, your risk _is_ telling your friend that you love them… This has been 101.3 The Fire. I'm Evan Evans, good night."

The flames of the fire grew dimmer and dimmer until only a glow of embers remained. Sam wiped the tear tracks off of his face with his shoulder, not wanting to wake Blaine by moving his arms. It had been over a week since he admitted to himself that he liked Blaine as more than just a friend. He was mad at himself for not deciding if he was going to make a move. He recalled the words of the great radio host, Evan Evans, - ' _risk it'_.

_Don't let this get away. Don't let him go._

**"Life's too short to worry about things that we got wrong**

**So hug all your friends and let them know**

**You're not letting go**

**No, I won't let go, oh-oh"**

Maybe Sam could be going about things differently. Better, even. Maybe, he could have admitted to himself earlier that he was queer. Maybe, he could have _not_ fallen into the trap of 'teenage politics'.

But maybe, he didn't do any of those things. Maybe, he did everything wrong.

All Sam knew was this - it was the choices that he made that led him to this moment right now - with a beautiful boy that loved him, gently dozing in his arms. In a room that smelled like cherry cough drops and a smoky fireplace. Life was too short for regrets. It was time now to celebrate, succeed, and have hope for the future.


	8. Into My Arms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things to note: Cheerio!Blaine has my heart any day of the week. Also Sam loves to hug Blaine. Thats all!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: Into My Arms - COIN
> 
> Takes Place Right After 4x16 "Feud"

**"Karma killer**

**You know, oh, oh**

**You got my attention**

**I think I'm falling apart**

**Lovesick feeling all alone**

**A crack in the ceiling**

**Trace it back to my heart"**

" _I'm-I'm not rejoining the Cheerios!"_

" _Oh, you most certainly are."_

Blaine cupped his hands together and allowed a spritely ginger-haired Cheerio to load her foot into them. He silently cursed Sue Sylvester, as he always did during these lengthy cheer practices. It wasn't so much the cheering itself, Blaine actually enjoyed the rigorous routines and the precision that went into them - not to mention he was starting to develop muscles that he didn't even know he had. His mind, on the other hand, was in another kind of condition.

Blaine had spent hours a day listening to Sue spew barely-passable homophobic comments at him through her megaphone - an object that Blaine would gladly set on fire if he was given the chance. Those comments alone would have gotten someone worked up, but on top of that, were the confidence crumbling tactics, the back handed compliments, and the sick amount of repetition. Blaine felt as though he was back learning acting tips from Cooper.

Sending his teammate up in the air and bracing to catch her when she returned to Earth, Blaine recalled his reasoning for not wanting to re-join the Cheerios in the first place. He was one hundred percent correct in saying that he would be too busy with Glee Club and student council. Running from fundraisers to dance rehearsal to conditioning classes were starting to take a toll, and Blaine had only been back on the team for a week and a half. He was mixing up which bake sale was for student government and which one was for the shuttle to Regionals. He was getting steps for his cheer routine confused with his steps for Glee. He was behind on his preliminary assignments for NYADA. Every muscle in his body ached _all_ of the time, and he would barely make it up the stairs when he got home before he crashed into sleep.

Blaine heard something crackle through Sue's megaphone, but he was too distracted to decipher what it was. He just hoped she wasn't addressing him directly. When the girls on the team disbanded and began running toward the track that surrounded the field, he concluded that they were told to run laps again and followed suit. A freshmen teammate ran next to him, matching his pace.

"Hey… You're friends with Sam Evans right? Blonde… hot… senior?"

Blaine didn't even want to think about Sam right now, but he nodded to the girl.

_Is her name Jenny or Julie?_

"…Is he single? Like, do I have a chance, y'think?"

Blaine huffed and looked at her, "Honestly… I don't know. I don't really know where his head is at with dating right now, I'm sorry."

_Jackie?_

"Its okay… I guess it's hard because I'm a fresh-"

"Jamie! Stop with the chit-chat and start sprinting! If I don't see a combination of blood, sweat, tears, and/or vomit by your next lap, you'll be off the team, now move it!"

_Jamie. That's it._

Jamie's eyes became wide and she quickened her pace and pulled ahead of Blaine. He was actually thankful for Sue in that moment - maybe the first and only time. Rounding the corner of the track, Blaine tried to push the thought of Sam's dating life out of his mind, but it proved to be unsuccessful.

Things were going fine with Sam, things were actually going _fantastic_ \- but that was the problem. Blaine was finding it harder and harder to push his crush on Sam to the back of his mind, and he had so many other things to worry about.

**"It's almost dark now**

**And the city's so loud**

**Your voice is the only sound"**

Still being early in the year, the sun had set while Blaine finished up cheer practice. He pulled on his sweatshirt and grabbed his bag from the bleachers and began walking toward the parking lot. He looked over to the east end of the stretch of asphalt, where Sam would usually park his truck.

He remembered sitting in the front seat of that truck the night of the election, watching the stars float by him. He leaned into the memory of not knowing where Sam was taking him, but knowing he was ready to go anywhere in the world with the boy. He wondered if those stars knew that _that_ would be the night he would fall in love with Sam.

Blaine thought about the night of the Sadie Hawkins dance. He couldn't see the stars that night due to the weather, but he was sure they were still there watching over him. Again, sat in the passengers seat, ready to take on the world because he had Sam by his side. And then, on the way home secretly hoping he would come inside and stay with him through the night. Maybe the stars, even hidden under their blanket of gray clouds, knew that that was exactly what was going to happen.

The stars were blurry the night that Sam had to take Blaine to the Urgent Care because his fever spiked. Blaine recalls being carried into that same passengers seat and having his seatbelt fastened for him. He fell asleep on the way there, looking at the dizzy streaks of light above him. The stars probably laughed at Sam sweating from panic as he swerved between lanes and ran every yellow light. They knew it was just a sinus infection and strep throat, curable with a ten-day run of antibiotics. The stars must have also known that the feelings for Blaine had for Sam - had no cure.

Blaine turned toward his own vehicle and opened the door. Before hopping inside, he looked up to his old friends one last time.

_If you know how this ends with Sam, can you give me a sign? Please?_

**"Get out, get out of my head**

**Out of my head and into my arms**

**Get out, get out of my head**

**Out of my head and into my arms**

**Into my arms**

**Into my arms"**

As he pulled out of the school parking lot, and turning on his blinker, Blaine recalled moments that had made him feel so conflicted.

…

" _Ready?"_

" _No."_

" _C'mon, it's fine. Ten minutes."_

" _Sam, you want me to submerge my body in a bath full of ice. It's not fine - it's unnatural."_

" _I don't care how unnatural it is, dude, it's going to change your life. You'll feel so much better after."_

_Blaine pouted._

_The two boys climbed into the ice baths, sat next to each other in the back section of the weight room. Sam laughed at Blaine's grunts and noises of displeasure as he descended into the icy water. When they both were submerged Sam smiled over at his friend._

" _Not too bad, right?"_

" _Don't talk to me". Blaine joked through gritted teeth, white knuckling the side of the tub._

_Once settled in, they fell into a comfortable silence and Sam closed his eyes. Blaine found himself staring at him - he needed something to distract him from the cold, right?_

_Sam's cheeks and nose were tinged pink from the temperature of the water, and Blaine thought it was unbearably cute. His normally shaggy hair was pushed back with sweat, after taking off his swim cap after practice. The style emphasized his fair eyebrows and lashes. The brunette was always attracted to Sam's coloring - the sweet blonde with his sour-apple green eyes. After traveling down the bridge of his nose, Blaine landed at his lips, which were now famous throughout the halls of McKinley and possibly even the world. He concluded that they had a right to be, they_ were _a work of art._

_Blaine caught himself lingering on the other boy's jawline, and before he could make his way down to his collarbones, a timer went off on Sam's phone. Popping his eyes open and breaking into a smile, Sam looked at Blaine, who refocused and mimicked his expression._

" _See? That was easy, right?"_

_As they emerged from the tubs and grabbed towels from the lockers next to them, Blaine silently agreed that it wasn't a terrible experience - not when you had a nice view to distract you._

_Sam did away with his towel rather quickly in favor of quickly hopping from one foot to another and pumping his arms to warm him up. Blaine wasn't angry at this view either._

" _Don't you feel energized?! I feel like I could punch a dinosaur right now, and he would apologize to me? Y'know?"_

_Blaine stood looking at him, enamored in admiration and slightly trembling. Sam stopped his movement and met Blaine's eyes. He then grabbed his towel off the bench in front of him and wrapped it around Blaine's shoulders, adding it on top of the one that was already draped there. He then brought the shivering boy into his arms and held him close to his chest, rubbing his back with an open hand._

" _You'll get used to it"_

Yes, I can definitely get used to this.

**"Midnight heaven**

**Let me go**

**Talking through fences**

**Burning bridges and breaking hearts**

**And yes, I've been changing**

**For me and not for you**

**Smile for the camera**

**Here's a shot in the dark"**

As soon as Blaine pulled into his driveway, his phone buzzed in his pocket. He read a lengthy text message from Tina inviting him to a last minute ice-skating night at the local rink. The whole Glee club was going. Looking in his rearview mirror and gauging his exhaustion, Blaine decided that he felt awake enough to join in. He deserved to have some fun right? And he _loved_ ice skating. He typed out a quick response to Tina that he would go and get changed into some warmer clothes and he would meet them there.

About an hour later Blaine was sitting on a wooden bench at the rink pulling the laces tight on his skates. He watched as Ryder and Marley pushed Artie around on some sort of contraption meant for wheelchairs, the three of them in throughs of laughter. He saw Tina, slightly wobbly, hold on to the wall for support while Kitty artfully glided past her with perfect balance. Brittany was attempting to teach Jake how to skate backwards and Unique looked on laughing when Jake felt backwards onto the ice. Blaine tilted his head as he wondered why Sam wasn't here yet.

"Hey, man."

Blaine's question was quickly answered as a tall figure sat next to him on the bench. Sam, clad in a knit beanie and sweater held on to a paper cup filled with hot chocolate. He still had his boots on.

"You're not skating?"

"Ah, no thanks. My skating is worse than my dancing, bro. I can't really afford to break a hip or slice off a finger right now, y'know?"

"No, c'mon, you should try! I'll help you. I've been skating for a long time and I won't let anything happen to you, I promise."

"But, I have all of this hot chocolate."

Blaine took the cup from his hand and took a lengthy sip. After handing it back to Sam he looked into the cup as if it never happened.

"No, you're almost done - finish while you are going to rent your skates. I'll be on the ice, flag me down when you're ready to come in. Trust me."

Sam parted his lips but no words came out, he was speechless. Appreciating the shorter boy's boldness, Sam did as he was told and headed to the rental counter.

Blaine stepped onto the ice and greeted his friends, whirling around the other skaters with precision and ease. He had never taken lessons growing up, but going to the rink was one of the only family traditions he could recall from his younger days. He remembered his dad saying something about the 'post-holiday winter' and how it could be so depressing, and how you needed to keep yourself busy and do things like ice skating.

When he had skated around the entirety of the rink and reached the entrance again, he looked for his friend. Sam stepped up to the opening in the wall and impishly raised up his hand. There was a slight terror in the boys eyes. Reaching out his gloved hand, Blaine met Sam's cautious gaze and urged him to put his foot on the ice.

After several minutes of finding his balance and gripping the wall next to him, Sam started to get the hang of pushing himself forward and he shot Blaine the goofiest and proudest grin that he had ever witnessed. Laughing to himself, Blaine slid up next to him and took Sam's hand, gently pulling him away from the wall, causing Sam to wobble for a second, but then fall into rhythm with the other boy.

They skated like this for over an hour, hand in hand, shooting proud smiles to one another. The loudspeaker then blared a message that the rink would be closing soon and everyone should begin to step off the ice.

"Dude?"

"Yeah?"

"You didn't teach me how to stop."

"Its okay, we'll start to slow down now, and when we get near the entrance we'll just grab the wall, okay?"

The pair slowed their pace and leaned toward the perimeter of the rink. When they arrived at the entrance, Blaine shouted to Sam that he was going to let go of his hand so he could grab the wall and stop himself. When Sam heard this, however, he went spiraling into panic at the thought of not holding onto the other boy's hand. This caused him to abruptly spiral himself and whip around on his skates, facing Blaine and then falling onto his back. The startled brunette fell forward onto his knees and found himself chest to chest and on top of Sam. Worried, that Sam was hurt or mad at him for letting him fall, Blaine choked out an apology.

Sam just laughed - a laugh deep from his belly. He also threw his arms around the boy on top of him and pulled him into a hug, slush flying off of his sleeves and onto Blaine.

"That was… so much… fun", Sam offered between fits of laughter.

Blaine breathed a sigh of relief and let his head drop onto Sam's chest, still vibrating with giggles - and he began to laugh too.

**"It's almost light out**

**And the city's so loud**

**Your voice is the only sound"**

Resting his back on the cool metal of the bleachers, Blaine looked up at the morning sky, the sun barely over the horizon. He had just completed a a gruesomely early cheer practice that had just finished up. Class didn't start for another half an hour, so he decided to stash his bag in the locker room and take this rare occurrence of free time to himself. The chilly morning air seeped deep into his bones and he wrapped his arms around himself. Relishing in the silence, Blaine closed his eyes and took several deep breaths in succession.

Unfortunately, Blaine's moment of peace did not last very long. Finding it hard to shut off his brain, he recalled last night at the ice skating rink - his knees black and blue from falling with Sam. His heart black and blue from falling _for_ Sam.

He regrettably started to fall into the whirlwind of contemplating his thoughts about the other boy. He had known that he needed to put his feelings for Sam nicely folded into a lockbox and store it somewhere far away. Maybe someday he could dust it off again and be honest with Sam about the schoolgirl crush he harbored for him, and they could have a laugh with their respective spouses at a summer barbecue ten years from now. Right now though, as hard as it was, the box needed to remain locked.

Blaine indulged his mind a little bit though. Was he really delusional or was Sam getting more and more… handsy?

Sam had always been an affectionate guy, always there to offer a shoulder squeeze or even some fingers through the hair - and it was all friendly. Blaine could handle those things, but as time went on Sam seemed to _always_ have a hand on him. Rubbing his shoulders after practice, holding him when he was sick, that shirtless hug after the ice bath a few days ago.

_Is this what friends do? Is this just what Sam does?_

Either way, Blaine didn't want him to stop, he just really would appreciate if he knew the intentions behind it. The last thing he wanted to do though was _ask_ Sam.

_God, that would be so weird. I can't just ask that. Can I?_

"Blaine?"

Blaine's eyes shot open and he squinted at the light. It had gotten brighter since he had closed them. Looking around, he didn't see the person calling his name.

"Blaine, down here!"

Walking to the bottom platform of the bleachers, Blaine held on to the railing and glanced over the side. On the pavement, which was about a five foot drop from the bleachers, Blaine could see Sam smiling up at him.

"Hey, man."

"Hey! I thought that was you, you're here early - want to go and grab some coffee with me before class starts?"

"Uh, yeah sure - I'll meet you down there in a second."

"No climb over the railing, I'll catch you!"

"Uh, no that seems dangerous."

"No it'll be fine! I've done it with Quinn - It'll be fun. Trust me! I trusted you while we were ice skating!"

"That's different-"

"No, it's not - c'mon you're a cheerleader, you know how to fall."

"I'm usually on the bottom!"

Sam let his shoulders drop and looked to his friend as it to say 'really, dude?'.

"Thats not what I meant! Sam-"

"Just jump!"

"Okay, okay!"

Blaine swung his legs over the railing until he was at the opposite ledge looking down at Sam - he was grinning with his arms open. Turning toward the bleachers, still holding tight to the metal in front of him, he checked with Sam that he was ready to catch him. When the giddy blonde agreed, he let go of the railing and pivoted his body so that Sam would be able to catch him with his arms under his knees and back.

The few seconds of free fall felt like pure peace. Blaine wasn't scared, not at all. Deep down somewhere he knew that Sam was going to catch him - he always did.

When he landed in the other boys arms and the world became clear again, Sam held him for a second, looking down at him with a smirk and soft eyes.

"We did it…You okay?

"That… was so much fun."

**"Get out, get out of my head**

**Out of my head and into my arms**

**Get out, get out of my head**

**Out of my head and into my arms**

**Into my Into my arms"**

"Tina, this has become an ailment, I can't - I can't stop thinking about him…about kissing him… about being with him! I've tried to stop… I've tried _so_ hard, but I can't help but think that this is getting toxic, y'know?"

Tina sat on the table in the art room, legs swinging back and forth and she let Blaine expel his feelings. Blaine had come to her a few times before to talk about his crush on Sam, but this was the first time it had expanded into a full on meltdown.

"He always wants to be with me, he looks at me different than anyone else has - he… looks at me like I used to look at Kurt! This is going to sound self-indulgent and cocky, but I used to look at Kurt like he was precious. Like I have never seen anything so important… and I _swear_ Sam looks at me that way."

Blaine's hands were balled into frustrated fists. He paced rabidly across the floor, threatening to wear it down and fall into the classroom below him.

"He sleeps in my bed at least twice a week, he cooks for me, he uses my chapstick multiple times a day… I just - he's not dumb, Tina."

She looked up at him with questioning eyes.

"He's not dumb. He has to know that I like him. That I _like_ him. Because I _let him_ sleep in my bed. I _let him_ use my chapstick. _I_ look at him like he is the most important person in the world to me, because he is… and I'm so _tired_."

"Are you ready for me to say something?" Tina checked.

Blaine nodded, moisture welling in his eyes. He jumped up on to the table next to her and anxiously drummed his fingers on his red Cheerio pants.

"Think you have two options - you need to be honest with Sam, or you need to take a step back. Several steps, maybe."

Blaine huffed, "…I hate that you're right"

**"And so don't walk away, don't walk away**

**So don't walk away, don't walk away"**

That night, Blaine sat on the steps outside of his house and looked up at the familiar specks of light - the specks that he found himself talking to more and more recently. He began to count the stars, and not unlike pulling petals off of a flower, for every one he went back and and forth in his head.

"Step back… be honest… step back… be honest… step ba-"

A ring from his phone stopped his count.

"Hey, dude - want to grab dinner with me? I'm craving diner food."

"Sure, Sam. Pick me up?"

 _Be honest._

**"Get out, get out of my head**

**Out of my head and into my arms**

**Get out, get out of my head**

**Out of my head and into my arms**

**Into my arms Into my arms"**

Soon the two boys with unspoken love in their hearts were seated facing each other in a diner booth. Surrounded by sounds of clinking silverware and the smell of warm maple syrup and French fries, they talked about Regionals and ice skating, and if it would be weird to order pancakes for dinner. After deciding that it wasn't, they both ordered a stack.

Blaine could barely swallow his food due to the knot of questions and truths balled up right behind his tongue. Forcing it down further with every bite, he contemplated if he should just be honest with Sam right here in the diner, between sips of bitter coffee.

_It doesn't have to be a dramatic garbled confession, just ask him - do you have feelings for me?_

"It might snow again this weekend."

_Do you have feelings for me?_

"What song do you think we're gonna wind up doing for Regionals?"

_Do you have feelings for me?_

"I'll grab the check, don't worry about it."

_Do you have feelings for me?_

"Those pancakes were really good, thanks for suggesting that."

_Do you have feelings for me?_

"Can I turn the heat up?"

_Do you have feelings for me?_

"Have a good night, Sam, See you tomorrow."

_Shit._


	9. Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things to note: Rewrite of 'Guilty Pleasures' part one! Do Blaine and Sam ever go to class? The answer is no. Also the plot doesn't have much to do with the song, but it screams Blam so go with it. I totally could have used "Against All Odds" but I like this song so much more. Anyway, read! Review!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go - Pomplamoose (Cover)
> 
> Takes place during 4x17 "Guilty Pleasures"

**"You put the boom-boom into my heart**   
**You send my soul sky high when your lovin' starts**   
**Jitterbug into my brain**   
**Goes a bang-bang-bang 'til my feet do the same**   
**But something's bugging you**   
**Something ain't right**   
**My best friend told me what you did last night**   
**Left me sleepin' in my bed**   
**I was dreaming, but I should have been with you instead"**

"Really, bro? You seriously went to karaoke without me?!"

Sam rifled through the shelves of the school's kitchen pantry, grabbing three bags of pasta and a package of lentils for good measure. Blaine watched the boy, eyes bright and seemingly exhilarated by the snatching of the ingredients. He pondered if stealing dry macaroni from a public school would be considered a felony. 

"I'm sorry, it was late and I just needed to get out y'know. I was feeling so restless after you dropped me home from the diner."

"I told you that coffee was a bad idea."

"I know I know, you're right - but either way, I just got in my car and started driving and before I knew it, I ended up at Scandals. It happened to be a shitty karaoke night so I decided to stay and watch. I didn't even sing - and I really didn't have much fun either, I promise. Mostly just listening to off-key hits from the 80's and getting propositioned by older men."

"Really?"

"Yeah, I don't wanna talk about it."

Sam raised his eyebrows and eyed a container of raisins. He added it to the stockpile in his backpack and continued scanning the shelves. 

"Well, I'm not mad - I just, I would've been happy to keep you company."

"Yeah, it probably would have been more fun with you there... It was just you seemed kind of tired after we ate all those pancakes and it was the _gay_ bar..."

"You can always wake me up, I promise I'd rather be listening to a drunk guy singing Alanis Morissette that getting a restful night sleep. And c'mon, I don't have a problem with the 'gay' part of a gay bar, dude, you should know that."

"Yeah no, I know, its not you... Sometimes they don't take too kindly to straight guys though. Kind of an intrusion on their turf, I guess? And _I_ know you are super respectful and understanding but - sometimes those bars are the only safe space they have."

Sam sighed, and probably not for the reason that Blaine was thinking. He wasn't frustrated that he wasn't welcome in the gay bar, he was frustrated that he couldn't bring himself to let everyone know that he _did_ belong there. 

"Its cool, I totally get that... So, anyway, what was your favorite performance of the night?"

Blaine chuckled, recounting to Sam the image of a stout man with thinning hair and a faded purple polo shirt, almost tripping his way up the steps to the stage - gin and tonic in hand. He took the microphone and performed a peculiarly-paced interpretation of Wham!'s 'Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go'. He recalled the man's wobbling step-touches and the perspiration dripping from his hairline. Blaine remembered laughing in the warm swirling lights of the novelty disco ball lamp that hung from the ceiling. He wasn't laughing at the man, he was sharing in the energy and the fun exuding from him. 

"That... wow, that sounds _amazing_. Wham!, huh? That's such 'guilty pleasure' material", Sam grinned and zipped his backpack, which was now threatening to burst at the seams with pasta. 

"Guilty pleasures?"

"Yeah, y'know everybody's got that one thing that they like that they're so ashamed of, that they refuse to admit it to anybody. Kind of like me and the macaroni portraits - I mean I told you about it, but its still super corny y'know?"

"Is petty theft also your guilty pleasure?" Blaine crossed his arms and pointed his eye toward Sam's overstuffed backpack.

"Hey, I'm just making the most of my resources. I'm resourceful."

"Right..."

"Well, what is it?"

"What is what?"

"You're guilty pleasure, you're lying if you say that you don't have one. Everyone does."

Blaine's heartbeat quickened as he stared at the tall blonde guilty pleasure right in front of him. He searched every cobwebbed corner of his brain for a different answer that he could offer Sam. Before he could stop himself he purged the words, 

"Nail polish. I- I paint my nails."

  
**"Wake me up before you go-go**   
**Don't leave me hanging on like a yo-yo**   
**Wake me up before you go-go**   
**I don't want to miss it when you hit that high**   
**Wake me up before you go-go**   
**'Cause I'm not plannin' on going solo**   
**Wake me up before you go-go**   
**Take me dancing tonight**   
**I wanna hit that high"**

Deciding to honor the sweaty man in the faded purple polo, Blaine and Sam snuck off school grounds and headed to the local thrift store to purchase some 80's garb for a performance of 'Wake Me Up Before you Go-Go'. Rifling through the racks of charming pre-owned pieces, Sam eyed the back of Blaine's head. He had thought he would be able to catch the boy off guard with the 'guilty pleasure' question, and by some miracle he would say ' _You, Sam! You have been my guilty pleasure this whole time!'._ Sam had planned on returning the statement with a profession of his own and then maybe they would just make out there in the school cafeteria pantry. But, things didn't go that way - Blaine oddly confessed his affinity for painting his nails. Sam had never seen any manicure paraphernalia in the boy's possession before, so either he was really good at hiding it, or he was lying. 

Sam tossed a pair of bright orange nylon short-shorts over his arm and continued to ponder. He asked himself why he needed Blaine to admit his feelings to him before _he_ could go ahead be honest. When thinking critically, Sam knew that Blaine had more 'thinking' surrounding the situation than Sam did - he had spoken before about the 'predatory gay' trope and how crushing on straight guys was an odd and nerve-racking situation. Of course, Sam wasn't completely sure that Blaine was having those feelings towards him - and just because Blaine was gay and nice didn't mean he was in love. Maybe _that_ was what caused the gnawing anxiety in his head that made his brain itch. It was this anxiety that was keeping him from pushing Blaine up against the rack of colorful track suits and kissing him. Something in him just _needed_ Blaine to say it first. 

  
**"You take the grey skies out of my way**   
**You make the sun shine brighter than Doris Day**   
**Turned a bright spark into a flame**   
**My beats per minute never been the same"**

Blaine turned around and looked at him from the next aisle. He smiled and held up his arm full of neon garments and tilted his head toward the dressing rooms. Sam followed and the pair began trying on options for their makeshift Glee lesson. 

"What do you think of this?"

Blaine stepped out of the dressing room first in a loose fitting long sleeve in a shade of orange so bright that Sam nearly put on the turquoise sunglasses he had found. 

"Oh, yes! It matches my shorts!"

Sam looked at the other boy through a crack in his own dressing room door. Widening the opening to display his shorts, Blaine couldn't help but notice Sam's shirtless figure. He also couldn't ignore the fact that these were the skimpiest shorts that he'd ever seen Sam in. Blaine had heard stories of the infamous gold shorts for the odd McKinley High rendition of Rocky Horror, but Blaine had never gotten to see them himself. Swallowing, he tried to get a handle on his rapidly beating heart. 

"I'm obsessed with those, and here - I'll wear these purple shorts and we'll find you a purple shirt?"

"Thats it - it's perfect!"

After a few more paws through the racks, Sam and Blaine headed to the register with their outfits and a smattering of colorful choices for everyone else to choose from. They added a handful of scrunchies and a pair of hilariously green mesh glovelets that Blaine couldn't part with and headed out toward the car

Sam pulled into the drugstore parking lot and Blaine looked at him with confusion.

"I figured we could stop here and pick up some like, bright orange nail polish."

"Oh, okay - why?"

"Well that's your guilty pleasure, right?"

_Oh right._

"I think it would be cool if you wore it during the performance to, I don't know, really drive home the lesson."

Blaine agreed and wound up finding an blacklight activated nail polish that would glow on stage - and honestly?

He kind of loved it.

**"'Cause you're my lady, I'm your fool**   
**It makes me crazy when you act so cruel**   
**Come on, baby, let's not fight**   
**We'll go dancing, everything will be all right"**

The adrenaline from their impromptu performance was wearing off for Sam as they headed to the locker room for gym class. He decided he needed to up the anti when it came to guilty pleasure confessions. Maybe if he made it seem dramatic, Blaine would feel inclined to disclose something more dramatic as well. He wasn't sure what he was going to admit, but he was confident something would come to him in the moment. 

"Dude, put some pants on, I need to talk to you."

Blaine spun in a circle as Sam walked up behind him and then toward a more private area of the locker room. Doing as he was told, Blaine slipped his red polyester pants on and followed his friend. 

"So lately I've... I've been battling a real deep seated shame about something in my life," Sam continued walking and held his hands together for effect, trying to make himself seem more vulnerable, "and it's a secret I've kept buried for as long as I could remember".

"Really?" Blaine was intrigued.

_Yes, this is good. He's totally buying it,_

"Yeah, and I've been waiting to like, let it out, and release this inner sin that's tortured my insides."

_Nice one, very dramatic. He has to tell me his real guilty pleasure aft-_

"Do- do you have feelings for me?" the shorter boy leaned in closer.

_Wait, what?_

"What, dude, no c'mon." Sam spouted.

_Shit._

"What, obviously- obviously I'm kidding. I'm just..."

_Shit, shit. He wasn't supposed to ask me that._

"It's a million times worse than that" the blonde tried to recover. 

_Goddamnit, why did I say no?_

"Well, until you can speak it, your gonna be stuck in this shame spiral forever, so..."

_Oh, dude, you have no idea. Should I... Do I just say something now? Fuck._

"Hey, you can... You can trust me, you can tell me anything." Blaine continued.

_I love you. God, I love you._

"I love Barry Manilow."

_Jesus Christ, Sam. You idiot._

"What?" Blaine dipped his ear toward Sam.

"I said, I love Barry Manilow!"

The population of the locker room all snapped their gaze toward Sam. Blaine tried to save the situation but Sam just began to blurt out his procured facts about Mr. Manilow and how relatable he was. He stopped and refocused when he heard Blaine say, 

"Well then I think you need to come out to everyone..."

_Oh, God._

"...and say that." the brunette continued, "Once you stop hiding, you'll feel so much better."

_I think I might throw up right here. Focus, Sam, focus._

"You really think I could just... stand up in front of everybody and say that I'm a Fan-ilow?

_Fuck. I'm going to have to sing 'Copacabana' now, aren't I?_

  
**"Wake me up before you go-go**   
**Don't leave me hanging on like a yo-yo**   
**Wake me up before you go-go**   
**I don't want to miss it when you hit that high**   
**Wake me up before you go-go**   
**'Cause I'm not plannin" on going solo**   
**Wake me up before you go-go**   
**Take me dancing tonight**   
**I wanna hit that high (yeah, yeah, baby)"**

Sam strolled in to the library, a place he was not too familiar with, but Blaine had free period now and since he wasn't in the choir room or auditorium - Sam assumed he must be in somewhere in here. His theory was proved when he saw a pair of legs clad in Cheerio pants kicked up onto one of the tables. Grabbing some books to make himself look more nonchalant, Sam walked over to Blaine, passing a boy oddly dressed in a pair of cropped pants.

"Looks like our guilty pleasure lesson has really been taking over the school."

"Yeah, that kids always had a really weird obsession with culottes... Whats up?"

"Uh, heres the thing. Uh, so far this week, you know, you've been talking the talk, but now I need you to 'walk the walk, pilgrim'"

Blaine smiled at Sam's John Wayne impression, but remained confused. Sam continued. 

"I've been honest about my guilty pleasures, and I even wore those tiny little 'Wham!' shorts, and we did that number, but now it's your turn to be honest - because you haven't really been yet, so far."

Blaine furrowed his brow and removed his legs from the table, stowing them underneath and leaning closer to Sam. 

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Well your only as sick as your secrets, dude, and that's what this weeks assignment is really about. This is your chance to really set an example for the glee club. What's yours gonna be?"

Sam smiled and rose from the table, but his happy expression fell as soon as he turned away from Blaine. He saw the odd looks that the other boy was shooting at him as he said his piece. Sam was afraid that he offended the brunette and was just making his situation worse as this really weird week continued to barrel forward. Leaning up against the lockers outside the library door, Sam buried his face into his fingers. He had gotten so far in his head that he was surprised his skull wasn't turning inside out. He kind of wished that it would so he would have an excuse to go home. 

**"Wake me up before you go-go**   
**Don't leave me hanging on like a yo-yo**   
**Wake me up before you go-go**   
**I don't want to miss it when you hit that high**   
**Wake me up before you go-go**   
**'Cause I'm not plannin' on going solo**   
**Wake me up before you go-go**   
**Take me dancing tonight**   
**Wake me up before you go-go, don't you dare to leave me hanging on like a**   
**Yo-yo**   
**Take me dancing"**

It was a few hours later when Blaine had finished up his gorgeously raw rendition of 'Against All Odds'. Sam felt annoyingly guilty for even starting this 'guilty pleasures' mess. Blaine had had noticeable tears in his eyes during the number, but seemed to recover quickly when he stated to Tina that the song was about Kurt, and then went on to justify his enjoyment of Phil Collins.

Sam on the other hand was having a hard time recovering.

He sat stiffly in the auditorium chair and crossed his arms, hoping that the moisture currently stinging his eyes would not spill over. He avoided blinking just in case. His nose threatened to run as well but he couldn't risk sniffling as Kitty was sitting less than a foot away and most definitely within earshot. He sat frozen as Blaine wrapped up his speech and only stirred when the boy made direct eye contact with him. Sam caught himself lingering on his eyelashes, just like he always did, but this time it felt different. He felt raw, and vulnerable - naked, and alone. He felt exposed even though no one around him knew what was happening in his head. His guts threatened to crawl up and out of his throat. He stood up on gelatin legs to try and wrap up this moment so he can dash out of the room as quickly as he could.

"Alright, everybody, let's give it up for Blaine Anderson."

A beat, and then Sam grabbed his backpack and scrambled toward the door, his head tipped down so his bangs would cover his eyes. 

"Hey, Sam, wait up!"

Sam paused and then turned to look at the cardigan clad boy behind him. Blaine put a hand on Sam's shoulder. His touch burned through his flannel and t-shirt and began to sear his skin. 

"I just wanted to say, thank you - for encouraging me to 'walk the walk', y'know. Singing that song, it felt really good."

"Good." Sam offered a tense smile. 

"It's karaoke night again at Scandals. Come with me, I don't want to go alone this time."

"Oh, I don't know..."

"C'mon! You made such a big deal when I didn't invite you- come with me! I think 'Copacabana' would really kill."

Sam looked into the hazel eyes that bore into him, and he couldn't bring himself to say 'no'. The next thing he knew he was joyously scream-singing along to 'Come to My Window' with Blaine and a woman in a leather biker vest, in a sea of swirling rainbow lights. Maybe tomorrow he might be able to convince himself to be speak about his guilty pleasure, but tonight he remained as sick as his secrets. 


	10. When We First Kissed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things to note: Part 2 of the Guilty Pleasures rewrite. It's canon to me that Sam lives at the Hummel-Hudsons until he moves to NY so just putting that out there. Lots of angst. You're welcome but I am also sorry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: When We First Kissed - Hellogoodbye
> 
> Takes Place after 4x17 "Guilty Pleasures"

**I wandered in**

**Hearing your conversation**

**You sounded bored**

**What would I say then?**

**I shouldn't have came in**

**Words sat on the pavement**

**Oh, what are you waiting for?**

'Guilty Pleasures' week really did its job in making Sam feel guilty. He was desperately waiting for the pleasure part to take effect. 

He was guilty for lying to Blaine in the locker room. Guilty for pestering Blaine, trying to get him to admit something that Sam wasn't ready to admit himself. Guilty for lying to Blaine _again_ at the piano last period. Guilty for nonchalantly agreeing to a ride home from him. And finally, guilty for eavesdropping on the conversation that was transpiring between Tina and Blaine at Blaine's locker - a conversation about him. 

"Okay, so he came to you at the piano - then what happened?"

"I was just messing around with another Phil Collin's song and he brought up the 'guilty pleasure' thing again, which at this point I was _so_ over talking about - I wanted to immediately change the subject, but... I don't know, there was something in his eyes... I felt like he needed to tell me something, so I went with it. So he looks at me and says 'maybe we don't have to put our guilty pleasures away', and, I just- the way he looked at me? It made my heart start racing and I didn't know what to say. Like, what was _he_ going to say? I mean, I had already asked him if he had feelings for me, and he said 'no' so fast - like so fast, Tina."

"Oof, I know, I'm sorry - so at this point you were thinking that he just wanted you to admit that _you_ had feelings for _him_?"

"Yeah, I mean I was _hoping_ that there was a little more than that going on, so I convinced myself that he just wanted me to say it first. But, then I thought- what if I'm wrong... Then I'm just the gay kid that has a crush on his straight friend? Like, that's so typical- and why go ahead and possibly ruin a really wonderful friendship, right? I just said something about not indulging in _all_ of our 'guilty pleasures' and how maybe if we _did_ then we would make a lot of people uncomfortable... And then leans in and he stares at me says in this low voice, 'you don't have to be uncomfortable'".

"What? Okay, what were you _supposed_ to think when he said it like that?"

"I know- I just, Sam is such a great person and I don't think he meant for it to sound so suggestive, but I really thought - I really thought that he was just going to take everything back and like... well, tell me that he liked me too."

"So, what did you say?"

"Well, thank god I didn't say anything because everything flipped on me so fast. I just look at him like I was frozen, and this...this sounds so corny, but his eyes - they had a look like _they_ wanted to say something, and maybe at this point I'm selfishly imagining things, but I try to look at him and let him know that _its okay_. Then something switched, like the energy shifted and I could feel it. I could _see_ too -it in his eyes...they didn't have the same look after that. Then he told me, out loud, that ' _it was okay_ ' and ' _he gets it_ '. And then... oh my god-"

"What?"

"He said 'your guilty pleasure is me'. And ugh- I just, I was so... I sat there like an idiot with my mouth open. Like, _okay_ , so he did know this whole time- fine. But why was he trying to get me to admit it if he didn't feel the same way? _All week_ , he kept nagging me about my stupid 'guilty pleasure' and really he was just trying to get me to admit something he knew all along? He said he's known all year! Again, I don't think that he was being malicious, but my head was spinning and I was so embarrassed and... a little disappointed, I guess. I was... I was even _angry_."

"Oh my god, what did you do?"

"...I guess one thing I have to admit to myself is that I can't stay mad at Sam for too long. In that moment, I think I was mad for about three seconds... I just- well at first I didn't know what to say. I took a second to think, and just confirmed that he wasn't freaked out by this whole thing. I mean, it was out now - I just wanted to see where we stood, y'know?"

"So? Where do you stand?"

"He said 'nothing's gonna change'. Which is _great_ , but again, I have to admit that I was a little disappointed. Then he pulled the 'we're like brothers' card again."

"Ouch."

"I know."

"So now what?"

"I guess I just grieve for a bit and move on? What else is there _to_ do? Sam's being super cool about the whole thing, so I have to play it cool too. At least I don't have to think about 'what if', anymore, y'know."

Sam's stomach threatened to claw its way out of his core. He felt so horrible that he made Blaine feel this way, all over a lie. All because he couldn't bring himself to be honest. He heard the slam of Blaine's locker door and his voice again from where he was hiding around the corner. 

"Well, commence playing it cool - I offered to drive Sam home since he got a flat on the way to school today. Burt picked his truck up this afternoon. I'm gonna go meet him in the choir room now, see you tomorrow?"

Sam didn't stick around to listen to Tina's response. He quickly padded back to the choir room where we was to meet Blaine, trying not to let his sneakers squeak in the quiet hallway, and trying to keep the sob bubbling inside of his chest. 

  
**I ought to be**

**So prepared**

**It got to me**

**I was so scared**

**What was I thinking?**

**It started to sink in**

**It wasn't what we did**

**I started to see it more**

Sam had fully intended on putting it all out on the table when he walked into that auditorium last period. 

He wanted to wrap up this week by letting Blaine know that he was privy to his real guilty pleasure, and then confess that he wasn't alone- that he had a crush on his best friend too. Blaine probably wouldn't have believed him at first. He probably would have laughed and asked Sam if he was serious. Sam was excited to let him know that he was.

Sam was also excited to slide onto the piano bench next to him and maybe kiss him on the cheek. Maybe he would kiss him other places too. They would play that waltz that Blaine taught Sam on the piano. Blaine would ask him again if he was serious.

Sam would say yes. 

Sam was waiting for this moment, these thoughts stewing in his mind way longer than we intended. This was it. This was _the moment_. 

Until it wasn't. 

Sam had gotten about halfway through the script he had written in his head. Blaine hadn't exactly come clean about his feelings yet so Sam helped him along. He found himself going down a weird road saying that he would have been offended if Blaine wasn't attracted to him. Stopping himself from sounding like more egocentric, Sam paused and looked at the boy on the piano bench.

_"You're not freaked out? Because, I don't want to jeopardize our friendship..."_

There it was- ' _jeopardize our friendship'_. After hearing those words, Sam's script went off the rails. The train in his mind basically flipped over sending bright white sparks throughout his skull. His innate phobia of threatening his friendship with Blaine trumped everything else that he was about to admit. The wiring in his brain short circuited and there didn't seem to be a way to turn back. His thoughts were simply reacting to his speech now, his logic unable to keep up with his runaway mouth.

_"Nothing's gonna change. Stop. Nothing's gonna change."_

_Shit. I meant to say that in my head. I just needed to tell myself that nothing's gonna change. It's still gonna be you and Blaine. You can fix this. Say something._

_"Okay? We're like brothers."_

_Jesus Christ. Anything but that. You could have said anything but that._

_"I trust you"_

_Condescending._

_"And you know to tell you the truth, the attention... the attention feels kinda good."_

_Douchebag._

_"It's- It's flattering."_

_Stop it, Sam. Just stop._

_"Hug it out, Let's go."_

_Don't do this to him._

Sam's brain must of been black and blue for how much he was beating himself up. He sat in the choir room, defeated.

  
**'Til I** **Walked you to your car**

**That night, down the street of Valentine**

**Your heart was right**

**We were cold and waiting in the front seat of your Rav**

**I knew someday I'd have to ask if you would**

The drive home was mostly silent other than the radio, full of static due to inclement weather. Blaine tried to make conversation once, mentioning how lucky Sam was that Burt owned a tire shop, this way he could fix his flat. Sam responded something plain and that was the end of it. Blaine didn't even mention the drop of blood trailing down Sam's knuckle as he gnawed on his fingernail.

Blaine looked out at the road with grief. Not only was he let down today when Sam had confirmed that he didn't have feelings for him (twice), he now was realizing that Sam was more freaked out than he was letting on. The kid couldn't even be in a car with him at this point. Blaine could tell he just wanted to tuck and roll onto the cold asphalt currently whizzing below them. Blaine kind of wanted to do the same thing. 

Sam fiddled with the radio, trying to act casual. That is when he noticed the blood on his hand. He quickly wiped it on his shirt and glanced in Blaine's direction, unaware that the boy had already noticed. 

"Do you mind if I shut this off? There's really nothing coming through but static."

"Yeah, sure. I hear we're supposed to get like eight inches of snow or something. Last big storm of the winter I guess."

Sam flicked off the radio and bit the inside if his cheek.

"Maybe they'll cancel school", Blaine offered.

"Yeah, hopefully."

The corners of Blaine's mouth dropped into a frown. He knew what Sam meant by that. 

**I never knew how**

**To say how it went down (And who got left out)**

**But somehow it turned out (The way it is now)**

**And you somehow knew it would**

Sam knew he wasn't doing a great job at hiding his anxiety. His bloody nail, his lip biting, his bouncing legs folded in front of him. Blaine was fluent in his body language, so he had to know that Sam was counting the traffic lights until he was home, hoping every one would be a bright and welcoming green.

He thought about how he was going to handle things going forward. He didn't want to jeopardize their friendship, right? That was the big issue? Well, Sam couldn't really think of one way that _this_ was any better. He knew that things _were_ going to change, despite what he had blurted out to Blaine. Things had already changed. He felt dirty. He felt like a liar. He felt more alone than he had ever felt. 

He felt like he couldn't hold Blaine like he used to. Then he felt guilty because he knew that the other boy would think that it was _his_ fault. He didn't want to give Blaine any more advice because, who was he to be telling anyone how they should handle things? He wouldn't be able to sneak looks at Blaine during Cheerio practice anymore. He didn't want to show him any of his art or bother him with his impressions. Glee sure wouldn't feel the same. He just didn't want to hurt him anymore than he already had.

Sam forced himself to really think about it, though. He reflected purely on his reasoning in the past, not letting his judgement be clouded by the events of today.

He still wanted to hold his hand

_All day and every day._

He still wanted to take him on a date

_Somewhere as beautiful as him._

He still wanted to take him to prom. 

_Would it be tacky to ask him with a macaroni portrait?_

And he still wanted to kiss him.

_So do it._

  
**That night, down the street of Valentine**

**Your heart was right**

**We were cold and waiting in the front seat of your Rav**

**I knew someday I'd have to ask if you would**

As Blaine's SUV pulled up to the Hummel-Hudson driveway, fat clumps of snow began to fall onto the windshield. Sam watched it, slack jawed, as he undid his seatbelt and opened the passenger door, but he didn't get out of the vehicle.

"You okay?"

Sam didn't answer, but he did manage to close his mouth. 

"You- you can stay a bit if you want, just- can you close the door? It's freezing out there and the sno-"

Sam turned to him and put his arm on the center console of the car, pushing himself up and toward Blaine. He gently gripped his jaw and clumsily brought Blaine's lips to his in a hasty and poorly aimed kiss. Blaine didn't find himself cold anymore as he maneuvered to match Sam's position and carefully pull his hand off of his chin and onto his cheek, interlacing fingers along the way. Just as the flushed Cheerio was about to make a grab at Sam's hair, the blonde pulled away. 

In the dim light from the car, Blaine could see Sam's bright and saucer-wide eyes. He looked as if he had just witnessed a car crash - stunned, nervous, and shaken. All the boy said before he tumbled out of the door and slammed it shut was-

"I'm... sorry-"

  
**That night, down the street of Valentine**

**Your heart was right**

**We were cold and waiting in the front seat of your Rav**

**I knew someday I'd have to ask if you would**

Blaine shivered as he watched his best friend run up the driveway and into the house, slipping on the quickly accumulating slush. Some of that slush was piled on the inside edges of the passenger door from when Sam had left it open. 

Blaine glanced at his phone, stuck in the slot above his radio, and frantically debated if calling Sam was even an option. He decided that it wasn't, but what he did know for sure, was that he needed to get home before the snow cemented him in this spot he was parked in. 

Blaine couldn't feel anything in that moment other than a buzzing confusion. He flipped on the radio and turned the volume up all the way, suddenly disgusted with the sound of his thoughts and his windshield wipers. He drove home with the taste of his own chapstick on his lips and numb fingers from gripping the steering wheel so tightly. The static spouting from his speakers made his ears tickle and his jaw was clenched so severely you would think his molars would be smashed to pieces.

He didn't let himself cry until he pulled into his own driveway. Harsh sobs stripped his throat and he was blinded by acidic tears that threatened to flow forever. A stomachache bloomed from his inability to catch his breath. 

An admission from before struck Blaine's thoughts again. 

_"...I guess one thing I have to admit to myself is that I can't stay mad at Sam for too long."_

But Blaine wasn't mad to start with. 

He was confused. He was exhilarated, and he was scared.

But he wasn't mad.


	11. Just Cuz You Can't

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things to note: Brittany is in the room with them so Sam doesn't fight his way out of the room to get to her like in the actual ep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: Just Cuz You Can't - Pronoun
> 
> Takes Place: 'Shooting Star'

**Just cuz you can’t think straight**

**Just cuz you can’t think straight**

**Doesn’t mean you put it on hold**

**Just cuz you can’t think straight**

The snow had canceled two days of school- Thursday and Friday. Then it was the weekend.

Sam had ignored Blaine's calls, texts, and online messages for the entirety of those four days.

By Sunday, Blaine had even called Carole just to confirm that he was alright. He would of texted Finn, but he didn't want to raise any flags that might encourage the tall boy to start asking questions. Carole had confirmed that Sam had been acting quiet and was down in his makeshift room in the basement for the majority of the long weekend, but he seemed to be generally functioning. Carole didn't pry on why Blaine had inquired, she simply stated what she knew and then nagged Blaine about coming over for dinner sometime before he went off to college. Blaine agreed, stifling tears, and thanked Carole profusely. He forgot how much he missed her. 

When Blaine woke up Monday morning, the snow had been plowed and the salt had been spread, and he just tried to get ready for school like any normal day. Checking his phone in a moment of weakness, Blaine read the words 'no new messages'. He sighed heavily. He threw on his Cheerio uniform, styled his hair, and grabbed his shoes and before heading downstairs. Blaine threw together something to bring for lunch, hoping his appetite would return by then, and called out a 'goodbye' to his mom, who was holed up in her home office.

The brunette made his way down his front steps, unlocked his car, and opened the driver's side door as usual, but he felt an odd energy overcome him as he went to climb in. This was where it happened. Where his hot, blonde, straight best friend kissed him in the middle of a blizzard. It honestly sounded like a movie, but instead of Sam professing his love, he hastily ran away leaving Blaine with a car full of snow. Blaine didn't know if that's where the film ended or if it was just a part of the buildup, but he was tired of waiting for someone to either press play or shut off the movie. He had been going over every moment and every word for four days now, and he still didn't know where things stood. He shook off the energy that hung on his shoulders and stepped into the car. 

What Blaine did know was that processing this would be way easier if Sam would answer him. His messages to the other boy were laden with 'I'm not mad at you', 'let's work through this together', and 'I want to help in any way that you need', but he had no luck in getting a response. His heart skipped anytime his phone buzzed, but it was never Sam. 

Pulling into the McKinley High parking lot, Blaine passed through Sam's lot to see if his truck was there - and it was. Sam wasn't inside, though, so Blaine continued to his own parking spot. After turning off his car he pulled out his phone again and began another text to sent into the void. 

_'Hey, just wanted to warn you that I'm at school. I don't wanna be weird, so I'm not gonna hunt you down and force you to talk or anything. I really would love it if you came to me though, let's say you skip history like you always do and we meet at the piano in the auditorium? This way I can see you before we have Glee and gym together? PS. I didn't tell anyone what happened, so don't worry. We can figure this out just between us. Please come, Sam. Please. -B'_

  
**Doesn’t mean that you leave**

**Everything we built but especially me**

**Doesn’t mean you leave everything in the air**

**And I know it was my idea but it still isn’t fair**

In the few classes before the potential meetup with Sam in the auditorium, Blaine mulled over what would happen when he was confronted with the other boy. The first and most likely scenario was that Sam wouldn't even show up in the first place. _But what if he did?_

Ideally, he would embrace the blonde and confirm that this was just a _thing_ that happened, albeit a _weird thing_ , but something that they could work through. Blaine wasn't giving up on this friendship easily, if it wound up that that's what Sam wanted to be - friends. Again, it would be a weird thing, but it was better than leaving it all behind. Blaine felt as though the bonds they built were fortresses strong and necessary to keep them both safe. Blaine needed Sam, and Sam needed him - and that was an argument Blaine was ready to fight. 

Tapping his pencil on the desk in front of him, Blaine prayed to some higher power that he wasn't sure he believed in. He prayed for Sam to come talk with him. Blaine hadn't received an answer to his previous text and he hadn't seen any flashes of blonde hair and plaid in the hallway this morning, but realistically, Sam couldn't ignore him forever.

_'But realistically, Sam does have parents that live in another state that he could move back in with. He wouldn't do that though, would he? His senior year is almost over. Regionals are in a few weeks. He can't just leave everything... Stop. Don't even think about that, he's not going to leave everything. That wouldn't be fair to anyone, including himself."_

The pace of Blaine's pencil quickened and his leg bounced along with it. Maybe thinking of what could happen if Sam showed up wasn't his best idea. 

  
**I said fight for you first, fight for me second**

**And it really fuckin’ hard cuz I know that I meant it, so**

**Are you gonna leave, are you gonna stay**

**Part of me just want’s to call it off either way**

Blaine had to face Tina in his next class. He knew she was going to ask how things were going with Sam due to the conversation they had last week at his locker. Right on cue, as soon as Blaine put his books down on his desk next to hers-

"Hey, how was your snowed in weekend? Did you talk to Sam?"

"It was good, and yeah. Yeah, I talked to Sam."

He told himself he technically wasn't lying, he _did_ talk to Sam. Sam talking to him, though, was another story. 

"Okay good, I'm glad! If anything happened between you two so close to regionals, that would really suck."

Blaine caught himself stiffening. He tried to relax and muster a reassuring smile. She seemed to have bought it. 

"Yeah, well, it's all good so we won't have to worry."

He slid down a bit in his chair and crossed his arms over himself. Luckily, Tina was already tuning into the lesson and didn't notice Blaine's shift in body language. He found it hard to concentrate due to a headache forming right between his eyes. The combination of stress and meal skipping was starting to get to him, but his thoughts refused to let him be. 

He started to think that maybe he had no right to force himself upon Sam, even as friends. He had neglected to think of the fact that this was a pivotal moment in Sam's life. Blaine didn't want to assume that this was Sam's first time being attracted to boys, but Sam wasn't _out_. Although he didn't verbally say anything, maybe this was the first time Sam had ever 'told' anyone.

_'Maybe being around me makes him uncomfortable for different reasons. Maybe he needs time to work through this alone.'_

Blaine had admitted that this whole thing was messy. It was hard, complex, and complicated. And it was even harder because Blaine really did mean what he said in all of those texts. 

_'I'm not mad at you' -_ And, he still wasn't. He couldn't bring himself to be mad at Sam. Sure, he had lied to him, but Blaine had been in weird states of confusion and conflict about his life and sexuality before, and it was normal for people to act out on weird and impulsive ways. Sure, Blaine had been rightfully surprised and played the moment in his head while thinking, ' _oh my god, he kissed me',_ over an over until his head spun, and he truly wished that he could have done something to help Sam before it got to that point - but, regret and anger are two different things. 

'let's work through this together' - This one, Blaine never second guessed until now. Blaine thought that the best way for Sam to figure this out was to hold his hand and so he could lead him through it. Blaine was his best friend, he was also queer, and he was the only one right now who knew about the situation. It seemed so easy, until it didn't anymore. 

'I want to help in any way that you need' - He came to terms with the fact that if Sam didn't show up to the auditorium next period, maybe what he needed is some more space. Blaine had thought he was being generous with the amount of space that he was already giving the blonde, but Blaine would admit that he had a habit of being over the top sometimes. Maybe his idea of space was different than Sam's, and Sam's feelings for Blaine was just throwing a big wrench in everything. Maybe calling things off wouldn't be such a bad thing, even if it was just for a while.

**Just cuz you can’t think straight**

**Doesn’t mean you put it on hold**

**I haven’t eaten in days**

**I think I’m leaving you tomorrow**

**Just cuz you can’t think straight**

**Doesn’t mean you put it on hold**

**I haven’t eaten in days**

**I think I’m leaving you tomorrow**

**Just cuz you can’t think straight**

The bell rang and Blaine walked with Tina out into the hallway. They would usually walk together toward the science classrooms for their next period classes, but Blaine made up something about having to practice the piano for a NYADA assignment, and headed the opposite direction toward the auditorium.

Passing the guidance office, Blaine glanced inside when he noticed the lights were off and Emma wasn't inside. He looked at the neatly organized array of brochures, all sporting semi-inappropriate titles and comical illustrations about high school issues and mental health afflictions. He didn't really think that any of these were going to actually help the situation at hand, but one of his and Sam's favorite pastimes was to come into this office and make fun of the not-so-subtle brochures. Maybe one of these would lighten the mood later on. 

Blaine plucked one out of its holder that had a lilac background and a title in black block letters - 'Can't Think _Straight_?'. It had a drawing of two boys on it, one with cartoonish love hearts in his eyes. Blaine chuckled darkly and tucked it under his arm, no intention of showing it to Sam right now, but it was too good not to keep for later. 

He continued walking to the auditorium and the closer he got, the louder the pounding in his ears had become. His breath became shallower and heat began to wash over his skin. He soldiered forward and opened the door with weak and apprehensive arms. 

It was empty. 

Blaine had intended to stay in the auditorium the entirety of the period wether Sam showed up or not. He shook off his initial disappointment that the blonde wasn't waiting for him on the stage with open arms and open dialogue, and settled on the piano bench. He began to play the waltz tune that he had taught to Sam, each beat dissolving bits of the hope that Blaine still had left inside of him. 

**I gotta keep up my head**

**Gotta wake up in the morning gotta make up our bed**

**I think you can’t even lay in the mess that you made**

**But it’s warmer in New York than it is in LA**

If Blaine wasn't playing the piano so loudly, he may have heard the stage door, just a few yards to the right of him, click open with trepidation. 

If Blaine wasn't thinking about all the times he had a certain blonde in his bed, he might have noticed the curtains shift when that certain blonde accidentally brushed up against them. 

If Blaine wasn't actively avoiding the image of living in New York with Sam, he could have felt the green eyes that were hyper-focused on him from behind a set piece, leftover from the musical. 

If Blaine had texted Sam to see where he was, maybe he would have heard Sam's phone buzz within earshot.

But he didn't do any of those things, and Blaine remained unfortunately ignorant that Sam had in fact showed up for their conversation but was too afraid to step out and face him. The bell rang and Blaine solemnly exited the auditorium via the stage door on the left. 

He was unaware that Sam had watched him leave.

He was unaware that he had left the brochure he had taken from the guidance office on top of the piano.

And, he was unaware that Sam had strolled over to the piano when the coast was clear, picked up the brochure and heartily laughed at it- finding it just as funny, if not funnier, than Blaine had. 

  
**I gotta fight for you second, fight for me first**

**I’m just waiting for you to translate feelings into words, except**

**Am I gonna leave, am I gonna stay**

**Everything’s just fucked at least you’re getting your way**

Blaine entered the choir room and settled in the back row next to Ryder and Marley. Talks of songs for regionals and miscellaneous comments about classes fluttered around the room. Mr. Shue was talking to Coach Beiste in the front of the class and things seemed normal, except that Sam didn't walk on the door yet. Before he could linger too long on the boy, Blaine felt a tap on his shoulder - Ryder. 

"Hey dude, I've really been trying to tighten up my dance moves, but Jake only has so much patience for me - would you maybe one day try and help me out? I know you can't teach rhythm, but-"

"Oh yeah, sure man - I'd be happy to. Weekends would actually work better, if you're cool with that, because I'm really busy during the week-"

The school bell trilled and cut off the conversation. Ryder gave a smile and turned to look at the front of the room, and Blaine followed suit. He dropped his shoulders and bit his lip in a moment of giddiness and frustration when he saw the back of a blonde head in a grey and yellow flannel two rows down form him. Sam must have slipped in and sat next to Brittany in the seconds that Blaine was talking with Ryder. Blaine was glad to see that Sam wasn't distraught enough to not show up to Glee Club, so that was a start. Blaine was just hungry for some actual dialogue at this point. 

Understandably distracted by the boy in front of him, Blaine became lost in hazy thought about if he should confront Sam after class or not. A jarringly loud popping sound quickly ripped him from that haze. 

Blaine thought back to that night in the baseball field when Sam popped the cork off of the champagne. It sort of sounded like that. ' _Like an explosive? Like a firework? Like a-'_

Another bang.

_'Like a gunshot. Oh my god, it was a gunshot.'_

"Everyone just spread out and hide, spread out and hide."

"Find a place to hide!"

"Please, go over there-"

"No, wait!"

"Shh!"

Blaine didn't notice Sam spin around to look at him. He had already shot into emergency autopilot. The boy in the Cheerio uniform grabbed Artie from his wheelchair and settled him on the floor, then pushed the piano toward the wall in an attempt to conceal the panic-stricken Glee Club sat on the cold linoleum. He was about to grab the metronome, which had fallen from the top of the piano, but a familiar hand poking out from yellow and grey plaid, grabbed his wrist and pulled him behind the piano and onto the floor with the rest of the class. Blaine pressed his lips closed and pulled his knees up to his chest, resting his forehead into his knees. 

_'This can't be happening.'_

  
**Just cuz you can’t think straight**

**Doesn’t mean you put it on hold**

**I haven’t eaten in days**

**I think I’m leaving you tomorrow**

**Just cuz you can’t think straight**

**Doesn’t mean you put it on hold**

**I haven’t eaten in days**

**I think I’m leaving you tomorrow**

**Just cuz you can’t think straight**

Blaine didn't look up for several minutes, as indicated by the unrelenting ticking from the metronome. He found himself frozen in the position, rationalizing that if he couldn't see anyone, then no one would be able to see him either. He didn't budge when Mr. Shue had asked them to text and message people that they were okay. He didn't move when Ryder crawled from the opposite end of the room to sit next to Marley, people hissing at him to 'get down'. 

But then he felt a kick on the side of his ankle. 

It wasn't the most affectionate way of letting someone know that you were here for them, but he knew that that's was Sam was going for. Blaine lifted his head just enough to allow his eyes to make contact with the boy who tapped him with his foot. 

Sam was sat only a few feet in front of him, everything from his tailbone to the crown of his head pressed firmly against the wall. His hands were balled in tense fists that rested on the floor on either side of him. One leg, the one used to get Blaine's attention, was outstretched, while the other was bent at the knee. His eyes were wide and bright looking directly at Blaine, just like the moment after he kissed him five days ago. His left cheek adorned a single tear track and his jaw trembled, full of unspoken confessions. He continued to look at the other boy with a terror in his eyes that Blaine had never seen before. A terror tucked away for when things became really bleak. 

Blaine didn't look much different. The same terror flashed in his eyes as well, only he couldn't bring himself to cry. His frame shivered due to the temperature of the cold floor seeping through his pants and his low blood sugar. His fingers ached from being so tightly interlaced as they held his knees to his chest. Every shift in movement or noise from outside made him jump and his headache from earlier buzzed in his temples now. 

Blaine broke his unplanned staring contest with Sam and glanced down at his knees. He carefully unwrapped his arms and transitioned into sitting cross legged, leaning over to rest one elbow on his knee, and outstretching one hand toward the boy with the trembling jaw. He saw another tear fall from Sam's eye as he leaned over and accepted his offered hand. Electricity surged from each of their fingertips and there was an instant surge of relief over both of them. The surge was small, but it felt good to feel something other than fear. They weren't out of the woods yet - in more ways than one, but in that moment Blaine had disproved the idea that he needed to give Sam more space.

Blaine was ready to fight for him again. He wasn't going to leave.

He just needed to make it to next period alive, first. 

**Just cuz you can’t think straight**

**Doesn’t mean you put it on hold**

**I haven’t eaten in days**

**I think I’m leaving you tomorrow**

**Just cuz you can’t think straight**

**Doesn’t mean you put it on hold**

**I haven’t eaten in days**

**I think I’m leaving you tomorrow**

Blaine and Sam clutched each other's hands for the next fifteen minutes or so, taking turns running a comforting thumb over the other's knuckles. It was Sam's turn again when they heard it. 

"All clear!... Hallway, clear!"

The lights were turned on and every one took a tentative sigh of relief. There was a beat before anyone decided to get up from the floor or speak. Sam had stood first and pulled Blaine up with his hand still holding his own. They shared a brief glance before they wordlessly decided to comfort their other classmates, before embracing each other.

Sam had wiped a few from Brittany's cheeks, holding a stabilizing arm around her middle. He then gave Mr. Shue a hug laced with gratitude and reassurance, and same with Coach Beiste. 

Blaine helped Artie back into his chair, quietly apologizing for the invasion of personal space. He shot Tina a text letting her know that everyone in the choir room was okay, physically at least and then one to his mom and dad. After putting his phone down he checked in with himself - he had done what he needed to do to help, everyone in his control was safe, and he was allowed to let his guard down. 

But when it came down, it came down hard - the floor underneath his sneakered feet tilted thirty degrees and Blaine felt his balance shift. His headache cracked his skull in two and his nauseated stomach twisted below his ribs. Blaine threatened to fall over into the line of chairs, until he felt a pair of strong arms around him, holding him upright. 

And, that was it. Blaine's chest heaved with ragged, ungraceful sobs and his nails dug into Sam's flannel. Everything that he was trying to hold together inside of him was spewing out, unable to be contained any longer. Sam moved his hand to the back of Blaine's head and let his own tears leak, running down his cheeks and landing on Blaine's Cheerio uniform. 

Sam couldn't lie and tell you that he didn't miss holding Blaine in his arms. And Blaine wouldn't tell you that he didn't like being held. 

**Just cuz you can’t think straight**

**Just cuz you can’t think straight**

**Just cuz you can’t think straight**

**Just cuz you can’t think straight**

Sam and Blaine were booked for the rest of the day. Single file line's out of the school, then single file lines back in to grab their things before going home for the day. Calls to family letting them know what happened before they saw it on the news. Calls to friends and ex-boyfriends out of town. Reports to police about what they heard. Reports to media about what they felt.

Blaine, for one of the few times in his life, was excruciatingly thankful to have his parents to come home to that afternoon. They actually put their work to the side and held Blaine for as long as he needed. With every passing moment though, he wished that Sam could have his parents here with him, and desperately hoped that he was doing alright. They still hadn't exchanged more than a few words all day, and although things seemed to be at least somewhat okay between them, he still wanted to talk. Blaine took a moment to himself and pulled out his phone to send Sam what seemed like the hundredth text of the past few days. This time though, Sam responded. 

_'Hey just wanted to check on you. I don't wanna bring it up but I'm sure its hard to not have your parents around tonight. I'm sure Burt and Carole are helping you though. Let me know if you wanna talk. -B'_

_'hey dude yeah burt and carole have been awesome as always. i talked to my parents for a while this afternoon and my brother and sister too. i do wanna talk i promise. not even about today tho- about us. im ready to talk about us. you prob want to be with your family right now tho and to be honest im so tired after today i can hardly think straight- can i call you tomorrow?'_

_'Please do, I love you, Sam. Try and get some sleep.'_

_'love you too, bro. talk tomorrow.'_


	12. Pancakes for Dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things to note: After the events of Shooting Star, Sam calls Blaine to finally talk about his true feelings for him. When Blaine doesn't answer due to spending some overdue time with his parents, Sam leaves a series of voicemails on his phone. Also I looked it up and the average voicemail length limit is 2-3 minutes so that's why his messages are so long (Sam is long winded and stammers when he's nervous, I don't make the rules). Sorry if the pacing is hard to read, I try to write like people actually talk so I hope it translates!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: Pancakes for Dinner - Lizzie McAlpine
> 
> Takes place after 4x18 "Shooting Star"

**Don't wanna be forward**

**Don't wanna cross a line**

**But if I were to crash in this plane tonight**

**I'd want you to know this**

_"Hello, you've reached Blaine Anderson. I can't come to the phone right now, so just leave a message and I'll get back to ya as soon as I can."_

_"Oh, uh, hey Blaine, its me... uh, Sam- its me, Sam, but you probably can see that... Anyway, I just thought I'd call because we said we would talk, and I know we didn't set a time or anything, but I thought... I thought I'd call now- y'know see if you were around, and um...obviously you're not around- because you didn't answer, and I totally get that- uh, hopefully you're okay and just like spending time with your parents or something- and, if you are with your parents, then I hope that that's going okay. I know you and your parents don't uh... get along great but- I mean, sorry, y'know, thats not really my place to say anything, but you know what I mean... or maybe you don't, I don't know. I don't really know what I'm saying... I hope that you're doing okay- that's my point, I guess. After today it's kinda hard to be doing 'okay' though, right?...Unless you are okay! Then, I don't want to take that away from you- I mean it would be a little suspicious that you aren't a little traumatized, y'know? But, I guess Ms. Pillsbury told us that people process different emotions in different ways, so maybe it's just that... Okay I'm gonna stop because I don't even remember what I was talking about..._ _Y'know, I don't actually think that I've left someone a voicemail in a really long time, since everything is, like, through a text now, but I didn't want to text you what I wanted to talk about, so that's why I called- and then your voicemail message started to play, and it... it was just really good to hear your voice- then the beep happened and I didn't mean to leave you a voicemail, but here we are, I guess. I mean, you deserve a lot more than a text anyway...honestly, you deserve more than a voicemail too, but it kind of feels good to just sort of, I don't know... talk into the void? Not that I don't feel comfortable talking to you... well maybe I am a little uncomfortable after what I did to you last week. When I, well you know... when I freakin' kissed you, I'm sure you remember. God, Blaine, I am so sorry, I- I'm going to explain myself, I promise. I'm also such an ass for ignoring you, but... today did something to me Blaine, I just- I can't ignore-"_

  
  
**Don't wanna say too much**

**Intrude on your space**

**But if I were to crash and I never made it home**

**I'd want you to know this**

_"Hello, you've reached Blaine Anderson. I can't come to the phone right now, so just leave a message and I'll get back to ya as soon as I can."_

_"Blaine, hey, me again... Sam. Uh, the last message cut off, and... I hope you don't hate this, but, uh, I think I'm just going to keep leaving these messages for you. Like I was saying, it's easy for me to just kind of talk and- and, I don't know if that makes me a coward- no... it does- it does make me a coward, and you- god, Blaine, you are the bravest person I know, but... shit, I forgot where I was even going with this. Either way, just listen and if you decide that you never want to call me back- well... well, I'm just not going to think about that... Anyway, uh, I was saying in the last message that today kinda, did something to me. It, I don't know- changed my outlook on a lot of things. Like, okay so, we heard the gunshots right? I can't believe I'm even saying that, but we heard them- and then when we were all on the floor, and we heard the footsteps outside in the hallway, and people trying to open the doors to the choir room and- I kind of felt like I was on a plane, okay, just hear me out. So, imagine, I'm already a nervous flyer- and then they say over the intercom that there is a storm up ahead and to expect turbulence. So everyone goes about there business and stows their tray tables stuff, but then you see the lightning and- and oh God, you're not sure if it means anything or if it was just a trick your eyes are playing on you or something- but then it happens again and the plane starts to shake... The attendants secure the snack carts in the back and the seatbelt light turns on, everyone rushes to their seats and everyone around you is just as nervous as you, but you don't talk... no one can say anything. Everyone just waits and squeezes their eyes shut when the plane suddenly drops a few feet, but then levels out again. And, no one knows if one of those drops is going to be the last one... the one that takes you down thousands of feet to whatever fate lies below you. It takes all of your dreams, and your plans for the future, and your secrets with it... Blaine, those gunshots felt like lightning. Every noise that we heard was turbulence. And the worst part was that I couldn't say anything. I was just waiting for the drop that would end it all, but I was praying that it wouldn't come before I was able to talk to you again. I really wanted to go about everything the right way, y'know, but since I've already messed everything up I- I just want to tell you how I feel because, maybe... maybe one day the plane won't make it out of the storm... one day it'll crash and I'll-"_

  
  
**Oh, and to tell you is too scary**

**So I'll just say something else**

**And I wish that you could hear me**

**When I talk to myself**

**But this plane might not land safely**

**So what the hell do I have to lose**

**If I just tell you**

_"Hello, you've reached Blaine Anderson. I can't come to the phone right now, so just leave a message and I'll get back to ya as soon as I can."_

_"Hey, okay, sorry, that last message was kind of a lot- I'm sorry to, like, unload all of this emotional word vomit on you, I just-_ _I'm just hoping I'm not making this whole thing worse... damn, dude, how've you put up with me? When did I become so scared of everything? When did I become scared to talk to you? To you! I was never scared to tell you anything! But the past few months... God, I can't believe I've let this go on for months... I don't know, it's just like my brain- it becomes scrambled eggs when I'm with you, and I can't just freakin' say how I feel. Even now, like I keep changing the subject- shit, I left you a whole message about dying in a fiery plane crash instead of getting to the damn point. This could have been done already. This should have been done weeks ago. Ugh, like, you're not even really on the other end, so I shouldn't be so nervous, right? Well, either way, I am sweating more that what I think is a healthy amount and I'm I've been pacing like Carole when its ten o' clock and she hasn't hit her goal on her step counter, so... Y'know, I just wish sometimes that you could just read my mind- well I guess it would just kind of sound like these messages, which I'm sure you're already tired of listening to... Um okay, lets try this- I'm back on the plane, I'm sorry, just go with me with this whole plane thing, it's really helping me process this... anyway, I'm back on the plane and I'm flying though the storm, but this time- you're sitting next to me and we can talk. This time, I can say anything I want to you because you're right there- next to me with some sort of fancy carryon bag and a coffee, and I can tell you anything I want, because if we do land, then I'll have told you something that I have been too scared to talk about, but if we crash, at least that's something the plane won't take away from us. God, I'm sorry I'm being so freakin' depressing I-"_

  
**I wanna eat pancakes for dinner**

**I wanna get stuck in your head**

**I wanna watch a T.V. show together**

**And when we're under the weather we can watch it in bed**

**I wanna go out on the weekends**

**I wanna dress up just to get undressed**

**I think that I should probably tell you this in case there is an accident**

**And I never see you again**

**So please save all your questions for the end**

**And maybe I'll be brave enough by then**

_"Hello, you've reached Blaine Anderson. I can't come to the phone right now, so just leave a message and I'll get back to ya as soon as I can."_

_"Okay, If you want to block my number after this, I totally understand- I sound so insane right now. So okay- me, you, scary plane- what would I want to tell you? Well, for starters, I would want to tell you that... I want to go to that diner and eat pancakes for dinner every single night for the rest of my life. I probably would get sick of the pancakes, sure, but I would never get sick of you- specifically when the light from that pink and blue neon sign comes through the window of the diner and you're sitting there, and its late so your gel is wearing off and your hair is starting to curl up around the edges, and you're drinking regular coffee because you always forget to order decaf so you're a little shaky and worried about how you are going to fall asleep later- and you always look up and catch me staring at you and you go, 'what?', with a little smile. I always would say, 'nothing', but in reality I'm trying to remember this moment- every single color and shape, because it's my absolute favorite image. One day, I'll bring my sketchbook and maybe some watercolor or something to capture it and have it with me all the time. It would be weird to break out the sketchbook now, though, because I still haven't gotten up the nerve to tell you that you're all I want to paint and draw for as long as my hands will let me. I would tell you those things on that plane. I would also tell you that crawling into bed with you that night you were sick- that night was one of the best nights of my life, y'know, until I had to take you to the urgent care- but before that. Just laying with you and holding you and- and you showed me your dad's old radio. It just, I don't know, it let me know that I never want to stop discovering you, in all your forms- sick, happy, nostalgic, sad. I want to know all of you, and I really mean all of you- shit, is that weird to say? I'm sorry I didn't-_

**Don't wanna say something wrong**

**Don't wanna be weird**

**But if you're still in love with her, I think that I'll leave it there**

**And I won't ever tell you this**

_"Hello, you've reached Blaine Anderson. I can't come to the phone right now, so just leave a message and I'll get back to ya as soon as I can."_

_"Hey, dude, I'm really sorry if I'm making this even weirder than it needs to be, I'm just so worried about saying something wrong, I think? And, I know that you're like the last person that would judge me, but I think that's part of it, y'know? I've already done so many things wrong, and you... you deserve someone that isn't scared to just hold your hand, and just- be proud of it. Blaine, I would be so freakin' proud to be able to have you on my arm. Proud, but like, the idea of it also makes me feel sick- no, not sick like in a bad way... shit- I'm just... I'm still figuring out a lot of things about myself, y'know? And, I don't want you to have to deal with all of that, but I've already made it so weird. God, see Kurt already knew himself. Kurt was brave like you. I don't think I'll ever know myself as well as he knew himself, y'know... I'm sorry, I- I'm bringing up things that I shouldn't be again. I mean you guys only broke up a few months ago, and man- that really wrecked you... I'm sorry- fuck. I just- I mean, you know this about me, but when I'm nervous sometimes I just say, like a bunch of stupid things- and I'm saying so many stupid things right now, so you can tell how nervous I am... You aren't still hung up on Kurt, right? Oh my god, I didn't even think about that. We haven't talked about him in a while, but you sang that song about him, but that doesn't mean... Shit- you can't delete voicemails after you leave them, can you? Fuck. Okay, I think I know how you feel about me, like I want to say that that's the one thing I'm confident about, but this whole thing, like I'm really second guessing everything man. If you wanna move to New York and live with Kurt, that's fine, just... I guess just let me know so I can figure out where I'm gonna stay and-_

  
**Oh, 'cause to tell you is too scary**

**So I'll just say something else**

**Like how was fall semester?**

**And what was that song about?**

**I'll try to hide the way I feel**

**But I'll just wanna shout**

**What do I have to lose right now?**

_"Hello, you've reached Blaine Anderson. I can't come to the phone right now, so just leave a message and I'll get back to ya as soon as I can."_

_"Jesus Christ, Blaine, I know I've apologized like a thousand times, but that last message was really weird and I- I'm sorry for going down that crazy spiral, just please delete that. God, what was I even saying... I don't know, but I think my main point is that I don't think I want to hide anymore. I don't want to hide from myself, mostly, and if that means I get to come out with you by my side then, well- then that would be... that would make me so happy. I realize that I said 'come out' with you by my side'... I didn't really mean it literally, but I guess it makes sense... I think you'll laugh at that- let me know if you laugh at that, okay?... Anyway, I don't know why its taken so long to get here. Dude, I could have kissed you the night you had me feel the scar behind your ear. We could have went to the Sadie Hawkins dance together. I wanted to dance with you that whole night, and no one else. I could have turned and kissed you every time you tried to teach me that song on piano. I know I still don't play it right I- I heard you play it in the auditorium today when you asked me to meet you there. I did come, but... I could get my feel to move when I saw you. I hope you're not mad about that... I get it if you are. I get if your mad that I didn't kiss you when you fell on top of me ice skating, or when I caught you after you jumped off the bleachers. I wanted to- y'know, I wanted to kiss you all those times. I wanted to kiss you at karaoke, when we got a little drunk and sang that Bowie song together- 'Heroes'. And, I wanted to do more that kiss you when you wore those little purple shorts during 'Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go'... Sorry, I'm making it weird again. I... I'm sorry for lying to you when asked me I had feelings for you, in the locker room- I just, I was taken off guard I guess. I'm sorry for leading you on and then dropping you like that. I'm sorry that I lied to you again at the piano, and said that I wanted to be just friends... Jesus, I was such an asshole. I'm sorry that I kissed you out of nowhere. It was gross, and it was ugly. Not the kiss, that- that wasn't gross, I didn't mean it like that... What I mean is-"_

  
  
**I wanna eat pancakes for dinner**

**I wanna get stuck in your head**

**I wanna watch a T.V. show together**

**And when we're under the weather we can watch it in bed**

**I wanna go out on the weekends**

**I wanna dress up just to get undressed**

**I think that I should probably tell you this in case there is an accident**

**And I never see you again**

**So please save all your questions for the end**

**And maybe I'll be brave enough by then**

_"Hello, you've reached Blaine Anderson. I can't come to the phone right now, so just leave a message and I'll get back to ya as soon as I can."_

_"The kiss wasn't gross! Ugh, I loved kissing you! I want to kiss you all the time! Why do you think I borrow your chapstick at lease twice a day? Blaine, if you don't put a restraining order out on me after these messages, then... I... I can't wait to live in New York with you. I can't wait to kiss you when we wake up in a tiny apartment somewhere. I can't wait to help you run lines for whatever part you get in some musical- and I'll do my best at reading them but I know I'll end up doing some stupid impression instead and I know you'll laugh. I can't wait to wake up early on the weekends and make you breakfast or go out and pick up cinnamon rolls and bring them back to you. Hopefully they make them as good in New York as they do in the mall. I want you to take me to Stonewall, and all the places in The Village that you've talked to me about and teach me more about gay history and stuff. I want to go to the Pride Parade with you, I'll put you on my shoulders so you can see all the floats... I'm sorry I'm laughing at that. What else?... Oh! I'm going to practice my ice skating and then we can go to Rockefeller Center during Christmas- like in all of those holiday movies. I want to hold you after a long day and complain about the subway or whatever people in New York complain about. Or we can join a gym and you can teach me how to box and we can get all of our frustrations out and then fall down laughing about something stupid, because that's how it all ends with us- just... laughter and love and-... I want you to wear that blue t-shirt every night. Do you know that it's mine? I let you borrow it like last year and you never gave it back? I don't even want it back, I- it's my favorite thing to look at you in. I mean, I don't hate the Cheerios uniform either, but- I'm getting off track again. I just... today has taught me that, I know what I want. I know what I want, and why am I going to let anything take it away from me? Why aren't I going to fight for it? It's funny because I don't even have to fight. Its so easy with you, always, so-"_

**Oh maybe I won't ever say what's in my head**

**No, I won't have to say anything**

**You'll say it instead**

_"Hello, you've reached Blaine Anderson. I can't come to the phone right now, so just leave a message and I'll get back to ya as soon as I can."_

_"Just call me back, Blaine. Call me back and ask me the same question that you asked me in the locker room. Just ask me the same question, and this time I'll be honest. I'll be honest and we can start over- I won't be so awkward and wishy-washy this time I promise. Sorry, um, this message isn't going to be as long, I'm gonna hang up- you don't want to hear me crying over voicemail, it's kind of gross. Just... please call me back. Bye."_

_..._

"...Hello?"

"Hey, Sam, I... Its me... Sorry, it took so long for me to call back- you were right, I was with my parents, and- and it was okay, y'know we just talked but- God, I'm sorry, I'm crying now- you're also right, it sounds gross crying over the phone.

"..."

"So, I listened to your messages. And Sam, well like you said, I think you know that I'm head over heels for you... man, everything that you said it- it was poetry. I know you'll probably hate me for it, but I don't think I'll ever delete those messages. Also, I don't care how all over the place your mind can get, your mind is my favorite, and you know I love listening to you talk. First off, I'm so glad that you shared all those things with me-"

"..."

"And I- I wanted to call you back and ask you... you know- ask you... what you told me to ask you."

"..."

"Sam, do you have feelings for me?"

"...Yes. Oh my god, yes."

"Sam-"

"Oh my god- I have feelings for you. I have every single feeling I could possibly have for you. If you, please, can forgive me, for the lying, and the weird kiss, and the running away, and-"

"Sam, please stop... stop- it's already forgiven."

"Okay, then go on a date with me. Go on a date with me and we'll do it right, and we'll figure all the messy stuff out and we-"

"Yes."

"What? Yes?"

"Yes, I'll go on a date with you."

"Oh! Yes, wow... okay yes! I mean schools out tomorrow, I don't know if thats too soon? We can wait for the weekend? I just, God, I don't want to wait anymore- I don't know, we'll figure it out."

"Yes, we'll figure everything out, Sam. Together. I don't want to wait either."

"Together- okay, yes! Perfect! I'll call you tomorrow. I- I love you... Is that weird to say now? Does it mean something different?"

"I don't know... All I know is that, I love you too."

"Okay, good. I'll call you tomorrow?"

"Yeah- I won't let you go to voicemail this time."

"Oh, God, please never let me go to voicemail ever again... but- anyway, have a good night, Blaine. I love you."

"Good night, Sam. I love you too."


End file.
